The Funeral Party
by rhetoricfemme
Summary: Looking only to humor her secret affections, Haruhi unwittingly encourages Kyoya to untangle himself from the high-reaching, self-destructive web he's become embedded within.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Ouran High School Host Club.

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When the day had worn down and the clients had finally gone home, Haruhi made the decision to begin something. Taking a seat at the Shadow King's table, she approached pleasantly, exhibiting neither a show of permission nor an explanation for her presence. His table was simply the place where she had wanted to be.

Initially, her sudden closeness warranted little more than a seemingly bored, albeit polite glance from the corner of his eye. It had previously been unlike her to accept company while studying, and the very notion of her now sharing his own workspace seemed entirely unthinkable. Alas, he found himself unwilling to send her away.

Therein laid the foundation of a new brand of normalcy between them.

She could find no reason to inform him of the several truths she had discovered, especially since it had all been internal, emotional, and above all circumstantial.

That she had first decided to sit there in order to see just how he might truly make her feel. Or that her suspicions had been confirmed.

How maintaining this new, short proximity was her way of demonstrating that she preferred not to merely exist in the same space as him, but that she would always choose to genuinely see him.

Because there was something about him that fearfully suggested that one day he could simply disappear, and she needed him to know that a certain sadness would inevitably wash over her, should that ever happen.

Unable to foster illusions of grandeur, Haruhi believed to know her station in this particular piece of the world, and was therefore keeping these delicate observations to herself. Her outward actions served as a gesture of courtesy toward her feelings, and were meant to go no further.

At the same time, should he ever decide to inquire into the motivation behind her company, she would not necessarily lie, either.

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Glancing away from the pages of her book, Haruhi watched while he quietly and furiously applied pressure to the backspace key on the computer. To the untrained eye, his actions would have gone unregistered and his facade would have seemed as cool as ever. Having now logged in countless hours of time tableside, she had learned to understand the discretionary moods which laid beneath his surface.

What remained unclear, however, was where the root of his pressures and frustrations stemmed from. By no means would she consider Kyoya an angry young man, although moody had proven to be a fairly accurate term to describe him. Whether his insurmountable pressure was rooted in his father's or his own standards, it was clear that the bar had been set no lower than some faraway stratosphere, that perhaps even Kyoya could not see.

Her only concern resided in the curiosity over whether or not there were any proper outlets into which he could pour whatever internal qualms he held onto. On an exterior level, he was clearly a beautiful individual who had it all together. Understanding and often declaring the lines of health and well-being in order to sway or impress guests of the club, Kyoya left no room for anyone to question the status of his own well-being.

It had not escaped him, however, that despite his appearance of overall mortal perfection he was also the least requested of hosts. It did not matter whatever apparently respectable reasons clients had for admiring him from afar; they still remained detached from him according to one choice or another.

In one way it was a comfort, as superficial interactions were better suited for the more light-hearted hosts. In another way, however, it was an additional chip on his shoulder to not know what details about himself kept most people away.

Noticing the studious girl now sitting across from him, Kyoya breathed a barely audible sigh. Smiling inward as it elicited the desired response, he looked up only as Haruhi began to speak.

"Challenging work today, Senpai?"

"Not necessarily, Haruhi. I was just thinking about the weather."

"What about it?"

"The forecast called for the possibility of storms this evening. Perhaps I should offer you a ride home."

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Ah, it's been so very long since Kyoya and Haruhi have crept into my head together! I'm happy to be writing this and hope you enjoy it! I think I have a notion of where this is going and how long it will or won't be. There should be a nice bit more. Thanks for reading, take care!


	2. Chapter 2

Inviting her to climb inside the limo ahead of him, Kyoya began to implore inward toward whatever reasons he had for offering her a ride home.

_How trite would it be admitting to myself the prospect that she came along at a necessary juncture in my life. Considering everything laid out in front of me, what would any of that even mean? Sooner or later I'll be pulled into Father's office only to learn that someone has been designated for me. Or perhaps it'll be the other way around..._

He thought about their purposeful setup of the club, and how it served as a means of leisure for nearly everyone involved. Drawing upon pieces of their personalities and capitalizing on their appearances in order to secure the attention of the opposite sex. Isolating their own needs and feelings from the near stranger thrust in front of them.

_How ironic to build an escape from reality based upon the same foundation from which so many of these upper echelon kids are either succumbing to or avoiding... Haruhi, though... Outside of this school, her world has nothing to do with any of that._

"Haruhi. Is there something you need?"

"Not necessarily, Kyoya-Senpai. Why do you ask?"

"I suppose I've just been trying to figure out what it is you get out of sitting next to me. After months of being in one place, what caused you to switch now?"

She gave a shrug. "Well, Senpai. I guess I just enjoy having an effective way to tend to my studies while enjoying your company." Pausing before going on, Haruhi found herself looking for any sign of reaction he might offer. "I don't see why needs have to be part of it at all. I have no expectations. It's just what I want."

"I see."

Indefinable silence fell between the two of them as late afternoon sunlight began to filter through the windows of the car. Enjoying the subtle warmth, Haruhi leaned back and smiled.

"So much for those storms."

He gave an arrogant, although not unpleasant laugh. "Oh, I don't know, Haruhi. I wouldn't rule out the possibility of storms just because the forecast allotted for a mere ten percent chance of precipitation."

Turning to look at him, Haruhi barely had time to register his movements before she found herself inhaling the scent of his skin as he leaned in for a kiss. Gliding one hand over top of her own, she prepared herself for whatever was to come, only to feel him pull away. Uncertain of the outcome of his actions, it seemed advisable to keep things brief while doing what he could to preserve the taste of her on his lips.

Seconds passed by while Haruhi remained glued to her seat, mind ablaze with myriad thoughts that seemed unable to keep from tripping upon one another. She wondered if the hand atop of hers now registered the slight tremble that had developed there.

"Why—why did you do that?" The expression across her face was incredulous, albeit not in such a bad way.

In no time at all, the one-time plans to humor her secret crush were taking on a life all their own._ What have I gotten myself into..._

"To which action do you refer, Haruhi? Me kissing you, or the part where I stopped?"

"I think both."

Her reply did wonders to calm the nerves that had kicked up within his chest. The unfortunate followup involved blatant disappointment upon reaching their destination. The whole thing was causing his heart to feel as though it had bottomed out.

Mildly annoyed, Kyoya sighed._ This has barely begun and already I feel like it's going to kill me..._

Sharing the sentiment, Haruhi gently reminded Kyoya, who now sat against the curbside door, that they had arrived at her home.

"Very well, then." Opening the door, he helped her to exit the vehicle, as he had yet to let go of her hand.

"Thanks for the ride home, Kyoya-Senpai. I appreciate it."

"Indeed." Nodding goodbye, he began to release her hand before pulling her back toward him. "Haruhi."

"Yes, Senpai?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"May I kiss you?"

"But you already have."

_Oh, Haruhi... Considering the source, I can't quite tell if that is a genuine, or trick statement._

"Fair enough. May I kiss you again?"

He found the shy smile that crept onto her face painfully adorable, and was surprised at the level of his elation when she gave him a quiet-yet-sound, "Yes."

Not bothering to hide his own happiness, Kyoya stepped forward, encircling her waist within his arms as he leaned down to meet her yet again. She smelled as sweet, tasted twice as exquisite as the first time as he delicately ran his tongue across the perimeter of her lips. Heat ran down his spine as she responded to his touch and moved to rest her hands against his hips. She parted her mouth to him, allowing for another taste of her, causing Haruhi to tighten her grip on the fabric of his blazer.

This time it was Haruhi who caused their separation. Moving her hands slowly up his chest, she lingered for several seconds before carefully pushing him away.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow."

He nodded. _So this is what it feels like to be teased..._

"So you will." Watching her once again walk away, he could not help but call her name, causing her to turn around one more time.

"I have another request."

Haruhi smiled, relishing the fact that he apparently had a somewhat whimsical side. "Are you going to ask if you can kiss me again?"

"No. I have another question. Do you think you can drop the senpai, now?"

"Even at school? What about at club?"

"As you see fit." _Why so much leeway? Am I testing myself? Am I testing her_?

Looking amused, she beamed at him before waving goodbye. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

Turning on his heels, Kyoya threw her a final wave before climbing back inside the vehicle, and directing the driver toward home.

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Chapter Two! Many thanks to everyone who commented on Chapter One. I really appreciate it! I'm still carving a path for this story, but think it's been figured out.

As for the title of the story, The Funeral Party; that comes from a song by The Cure bearing the same name. It's an absolutely beautiful song, and for the most part fits where Kyoya is at in my head/his head for this particular story. Whenever I write anything, fanfic or otherwise, most of the time there's theme music running through my head. Same goes for when I'm reading the manga. I've pretty much pegged Kyoya's music as being cello, The Cure, or Depeche Mode. I've got designated music for a few of them, hehe.

Anyhoo, thanks for reading. Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

Their relationship initiated alongside that year's spring thaw. In the days to come she would leave behind the 'senpai,' and with it fell away several of his own private inhibitions. For the first time in his young adult life, Kyoya had taken on a commitment and endeavor which had nothing to do with anyone other than himself and the one person who he would eventually come to realize he unabashedly loved.

As time went by the pretenses continued to drop. Their public discretion was no match for the keen eyes of their friends, and before long it became clear to the rest of the host club that there were now two unofficial secrets which needed to be kept. Though there could be no doubt that each of their friends offered the entirety of their support, the sliding scale of each member's happiness over the relationship was also difficult to conceal.

Now, in the midst of relishing a particularly warm evening on their spring holiday, Haruhi leaned out over the ledge in front of her apartment, and took notice of a flash of blue in the distance. Working to calm the sudden afront on her nerves, her demeanor brightened with the arrival of a potentially wonderful idea. Flipping open her phone, she dialed Kyoya whilst hoping that he had nothing better to do.

"Hello, Haruhi."

"Hey." Certain that he'd be aware of the inclement weather, she did her best to sound casual. "What are you up to?"

"Looking for better numbers than the ones presently in front of me. It's supposed to storm tonight, you know."

"I know."

"Where's your father?"

"The same place he usually is this time of night."

"Are you suggesting I might pay you a visit?"

"Are you busy?"

"Indeed I am. For the rest of the night, in fact." She smiled in understanding, as he had segued from a once bored, to a now interested tone. Her hopes flew high upon hearing the closing lid of a laptop in the background.

"I'll see you soon?"

"You shall." With that, he hung up.

He arrived to find Haruhi standing outside her home, her attention fixed toward the sky. The torrent that held strong somewhere outside of the city remained a considerable distance away, and would hopefully diminish in severity before they would need to acknowledge it.

As if to answer the still-present thunder, he grabbed her by the hand, then raised an eyebrow upon seeing the blanket draped across her arm.

"And what is that for?"

Throwing him a grin, Haruhi said nothing while leading them away from her apartment, directing him toward an unfamiliar set of stairs. Their trek ended atop the roof of the building, where she spread the blanket before beckoning him to join her.

"You'd like to make out on the roof while thunder and lightning run overhead?"

"It's still pretty far off. And I'm tired of always being worried by it, anyway."

"I see. Do I have time to calculate the odds of us being struck by lightning in the midst of our passion, before you change your mind?"

"No."

"Very well, then." He made his way toward where she sat on the blanket, easing his body alongside hers.

Running his mouth across her neck, she inhaled deeply, collecting his familiar scent woven into another new occasion. Once unsteady hands now melded against curves and plains that in time, had transitioned from shy requests into private sources of comfort.

Easing herself toward the blanket, her hands made quick work of the buttons down Kyoya's shirt before he cuffed her wrists in one hand, while unzipping her pants with the other. The heat of her body emanated upon him, and before long the article of clothing had been discarded altogether.

She relished the feel of his weight over top of her. Embraced knowing that while it was worth allowing him the control, the discovery of each other's bodies was an ongoing, and essentially level playing field. Shifting out from beneath him, Haruhi caught Kyoya's attention anew as she sought to straddle him. Moving in time with one another, her body began to flush as the presence of his erection taunted her though his jeans. He let out a small groan as she dismounted, only find her attempting to remove his clothing as he had hers.

Indecision crept into his mind at the notion of what was to come, but was quickly shoved aside as he glimpsed the expression of excitement and care that shined in her eyes. Granting Haruhi the reins, Kyoya simply watched to see what she would do next.

She reveled in the sight of him. In their private moments, he moved with nearly as much grace as he did elsewhere, save for the unspoken insecurities they each encountered throughout their discovery of one another. It was here that the proud stature and all-knowing mind succumbed to the fact that he, too, was a relatively new participant to humanity. More than ever, these were the times she found him most charming.

Laying partially on top of him, Haruhi leaned the two of them toward the blanket, when the nearly forgotten storm vocalized somewhere in the background. She gave a startled jump, at which point he laughed at her before apologetically bringing her closer to his chest. Nestling into him, Haruhi slowly brought her hand toward the waistband of his boxers. Without breaking eye contact, she came to fully grasp him, gently squeezing before asking if her actions were still okay.

"Without a doubt, my dear Haruhi."

Smiling, she placed an affectionate kiss to the side of his mouth before slipping away from his embrace. Still looking him in the eye, she began to remove his boxers, releasing him completely. Her own heart beating profusely, she moved forward to give him her full attention. Having imagined this moment on several occasions, there was little that she had come to expect other than that she prayed he enjoy it.

Trying not to think too much, she placed her mouth around Kyoya's erection, using his responses to her actions as cues. Listening to the increased heaviness of his breathing, Haruhi was finding it difficult to ignore her own pressing arousal. Reaching one hand upward, she felt for his own and regained confidence in herself as their fingers intertwined.

"Haruhi..." The message was made clear by the pitch in his voice.

Meeting his gaze, she made a small nod. Not knowing quite what to expect, she prepared herself for anything as a telling movement began to shudder through Kyoya's body. Placing her free hand at his hip, she barely had time to react as he spilled into her.

In a surreal moment, that first act of generosity was over. Giving her hand an affectionate squeeze, Kyoya worked to collect his breath while she used him as a pillow. Having moved very little in the past few minutes, a feeling of inconsistency began to permeate Haruhi's mind.

_Something is off, here. Something literally doesn't feel right..._

Attempting to shut out all outside noise, she quieted herself in hopes of pinpointing where the trouble lie. Within seconds she had her answer.

Trailing her fingertips across the raised skin of his hip, she repositioned herself in the moonlight in hopes of attaining a better look. "Kyoya, what is this?"

"Ah. That would be the product of my time spent as an overly pensive third year at Ouran Middle School."

Gingerly tending to the area, she counted several incisions positioned alongside one another. He had remained neat and precise, even in disfigurement.

"You cut yourself?"

"For a short while, a long time ago."

He stared at her while she examined the marks, committing their depth and placement to memory. By no means something he was proud of, there seemed little point in pretending to have forgotten the scars were there. "Are you disappointed?"

"No. Concerned. But you're not a disappointment. Does anyone else know?"

"Only you. It was a long time ago."

"So you got help."

"Not really. Eventually I came to my senses and decided to stop."

"Okay. So you used to cut yourself in a place where logically no one would see it. And all on your own, you chose to stop."

"You've managed to reiterate both the the unspoken and vocalized points, yes."

"Was the issue solved, or rerouted?"

"I suppose you could say I grew tired of being angry with the prospects of my future, and decided to excel at my family's game, instead."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"Maybe. I don't really know. If business society's idea of familial piety is such a one-way street, is it honestly worth it?"

"My dear Haruhi, perhaps you understand better than you know."

"Do I?"

"Mm. Perhaps. If not, just wait for a few weeks when we hold the Ouran Fair. I'm hoping to have collected enough stimulating data that if my father remains unimpressed with my abilities, then he should at least be unable to ignore the impression I'm able to make on his colleagues. And of course, the host club."

Burying her face into his neck, she wanted more than anything to find an indicator that somewhere inside of him there was solace. She received her answer in the form of thunder and raindrops. Handing each other pieces of clothing, they silently dressed before gathering the blanket and heading back down the stairs.

They stopped upon reaching the threshold of her doorway. Her heart warmed as she stared up at the young man who stood to gain absolutely everything.

"Kyoya?"

"Yes?"

"How much would it take to convince you to stay the rest of the night?"

He smiled a genuine smile for her and opened the door. "Now that, Haruhi, sounds like the sort of question I should be asking of you."

Watching her sweetly walk past, Kyoya made certain to shut the storm out behind them.

* * *

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Greetings and Salutations! I hope that was enjoyable for you. It was quite fun to write. :)

I wanted to say Thank You to all of you for the amazing interaction with this story. I've gotten to share in some great conversations with you, and your critical feedback is greatly appreciated as well. Thank you!

As for how deeply the song The Funeral Party plays into this story, I think it's more or less subconscious. I'm not going for a literal translation of lyrics-to-fic, but feel that the song's overall mood and attitude are fitting for where Kyoya is at in his mind and life. I'll post the lyrics one of these chapters, I promise!

I've also gotten some questions as to what sort of music I link up to Takashi. Ah, however did you know I'd have music for him... ;) It's tougher for me to pinpoint complete bands or artists to Takashi, but find that when I hear certain songs, they just completely gel with him for me. Ones that stand out are All of Me by Tanlines, Maps by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Don't Save Us From the Flames by M83. I suppose I do fuse him into Snow Patrol and Iron & Wine quite a bit. Moby, too.

Poor Kyoya gets stuck in NewWaveLandia in my head, hehe. The Cure has always touched me on a deeper level, and Kyoya is the kind of character that I'm able to see several pieces of myself in. So I guess that's how that happened.

Anyhoo... Thanks again for reading! Have a good night!


	4. Chapter 4

Switching into the first of several costumes for the day, he found it difficult to take his eyes off the computer that now sat right outside the changing room door. An especially scrutinous relationship had developed between himself and the laptop, as the details surrounding current club activities were completed, and a far more ambitious project now loomed in front of him. Having accounted for any number of variables, he had left nothing up to chance and now waited to see the culmination of nearly a year's worth of tireless work. Shaking his nerves off, Kyoya worked to clear his mind, as the morning of the Ouran fair was now upon them.

As the rest of the hosts began to make their way toward the central salon, Haruhi took advantage of an opportunity to divert his attention away from the machine that determined so much of his life—if only for a moment. Guiding him behind the clothing partition, she adjusted the lapel of his jacket while offering a kiss. Returning the gesture, his touch was nothing short of tremorous, and perhaps a bit terse. Understanding there was little she could do at this point, Haruhi settled for bringing her hands beneath his jacket, rubbing the muscles of his back in a final effort to bring him some sense of internal calm.

"Don't you have any warm memories with your father? At all?"

Pausing, he stopped to consider the question. "When I was still a boy, my mother would sometimes come into my room in the middle of the night, and we'd sneak downstairs to the chef's pantry for cookies. She'd always make it seem more exciting than it was, as though we were on a mission. I'd always save a cookie for my father and give it to him at breakfast the next morning. He'd play along when I would tell him that it was a secret cookie."

Part of Haruhi flooded with relief in knowing that his father was seemingly capable of affection, and she listened with intent as Kyoya went on.

"The older I got, however, the less we played. The endearments stopped, and his love and attention became things to earn. High grades, having a sharp or clever edge over my classmates, or befriending certain people all became a sort of currency."

"I'm sorry, Kyoya. But you've got to know that he still loves you."

"I'm sure he does. He's hand-crafted each of his sons into precisely who he thinks we should be, and married off his only daughter to a man whose name can offer our family long-term business security. He was raised similarly, and now has four children who are the product of excellent breeding. What's not to love?"

At this point, she was running short on ammunition. "What about your mother?"

"Oh, I'm well aware that she loves me. But she's his wife, first. She'll do as he says."

Not knowing how it must feel, and still unknowing of what sort of personal project he had planned, all Haruhi had left to offer was a hug, which he gladly accepted. Not yet satiated, he buried his nose within her hair, wishing for the day to move along and be over, as he longed to think of more important things.

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As the morning progressed, visitors to the Ouran Fair began to loosen from some of their formalities. Proud students showcased the products of their time working with one another, their achievements presented to a mostly impressed group of parents. Within the central salon, the host club had painted itself as an ingenious group of students able to reinvent a somewhat seedy notion into something altogether classy. Catering to the interests and concerns of the parents, the club had divided and conquered by ability to win over the lot of adults.

Having made up a notebook especially for the fair, Kyoya aimed to demonstrate the club's ability to manage a student-fueled budget that allowed the club to both educate and entertain its guests by emanating eras and cultures from throughout the world. Tamaki, Hikaru, and Kaoru turned up the charm while offering compliments to both mothers and daughters while sharing seemingly private family stories. Huni and Mori had found a crowd mostly with fathers interested in hearing about their family histories, and their disciplines in the martial arts. Haruhi had deviated very little from her typical routine, as she managed to flit about and converse with any parents who appeared isolated. Every time, without fail, she succeeded in bringing them around, and before moving on would leave them with a pleasant feeling of warmth.

Finding a free moment to herself, Haruhi made her way across the salon, stopping as she came to stand alongside Kyoya. Giving him an encouraging smile, together they glanced around the room.

"Well, this seems to be working out great! Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves."

"Indeed. We're off to a good start."

"I noticed that last group of men seemed rather impressed by you."

"I should hope so, Haruhi. I spent quite a bit of time arranging that notebook. It includes details around club field trips, our smarter looking cosplays, and a lowdown of what for men like that, will appear to be a modest budget."

"Thought of everything, haven't you?"

He just smiled.

Approaching from behind, they were met by a typically excited Tamaki, who wrapped an arm around each of them. "Kyoya! Haruhi! What do you think of the fair? Isn't it perfect?!"

"I think if the twins aren't careful, they're going to end up being adopted by some unsuspecting client's overly interested mother."

"Kyoya! How can you even think like that? Sophisticated women such as these only have the best intentions at heart."

"Uh huh." Haruhi added, "I'm sure that's exactly what Hikaru and Kaoru have in mind... Though in all seriousness, Senpai, it's great. And everyone is fantastic."

"Thanks, Haruhi. By the way, I'm supposed to tell you that you've been designated as host for my fath—the chairman for the afternoon."

"Oh? That's a surprise."

"Not really. You're the only member of the club he doesn't know. Not to mention, you're his scholarship student. He's waiting for you over there." Pointing across the room, he directed her toward a velvet sofa where a tall, svelte man sat waiting.

"Alright, then." Turning to give Kyoya a nod, he sent her off with a pat on the shoulder and a curiously raised eyebrow.

He was left to his own devices, as Haruhi went to her appointment, and Tamaki trailed off toward several parents who looked like they needed attention. An amused smile crossed his lips while he observed Haruhi's interactions with the chairman—Tamaki's father.

_It appears that Haruhi is currently learning the origin of Tamaki's eccentricities and charm... Hm. He's presenting her with a box of stationary and a rose... Well, I guess it's nice to see that a sense of humor and whimsy haven't been lost on a man of his stat—_

The harsh and abrupt sting across Kyoya's face momentarily sent all thoughts racing away from his mind. Kneeling in search of his glasses, he could feel the stares of shocked adults alongside the telling glare emanating from his father.

"So this is the club you've been pouring yourself into?" Knowing better than to respond, Kyoya remained silent and allowed his father to talk, the acrid words audible to anyone who wanted to hear.

"A frivolous waste of time is what this is. To think that I've been considering handing over one of my companies to you. You are an embarrassment to the Ootori name."

Quietly gathering himself, he stood as his father began to walk away. As the elder man moved in the chairman's direction, Kyoya watched in near disbelief as Haruhi poised herself to usurp any other intended conversation.

"You don't know anything about the host club! Your son works around the clock to make sure that everyone here is enjoying themselves. And did you ever stop to think that entertaining others might give each of us some fulfillment? How can you possibly say that what we do here is just a waste of our time? I don't care what you say. I think Kyoya is amazing."

Having said her piece, Haruhi resisted the innate urge to run away, instead choosing to stare the hardened man in the eye, granting him the first move. Seconds passed by before the chairman stepped in, first addressing Haruhi in an attempt to break the dour rigidity.

"I'd like to thank you, my dear, for treating me as well as I'm sure you do your regular guests. I'm only sorry to have to cut our time short. Do remember what I told you."

Nodding, she gave him a small bow before leaving the two men alone. Joining up with Tamaki, the two of them made haste for the one they each called their closest friend. Within seconds, the rest of the host club had gathered around, well aware that all they could offer was their presence and support. As far as Kyoya was concerned, it was more than enough.

"Kyoya!" Tamaki gasped, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Honestly, it was expected."

Almost afraid to implore, Haruhi forced herself to ask the one question plaguing her mind, "He's this angry over the host club?"

"It's okay, Haruhi. It could have been the botany club, and it would have been the same. If he sees no obvious connection to an improvement in business, it's useless. Almost anything can be considered a distraction."

Pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, Kyoya said nothing else before deciding to take his leave.

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Haruhi took a deep breath, reliving everything that had happened in the day since she last stood behind the clothing partition. Whatever joy she had been privy to was now overshadowed by her mind's constant replay of the derisive noise made by Kyoya's glasses clattering to the floor. Unsurprised and stoic, he had allowed his father to have his moment, only to continue on as if nothing had happened.

_He may have walked away looking unaffected, but he retreated into his laptop for the rest of the day. Whatever he was working on, it seemed to have lightened him up a bit. I hope it helped._

Taking one final look in the mirror, she sighed while smoothing down the new outfit. She didn't much mind the demure white dress, but found herself somewhat bothered by the sumptuous overcoat. As if the boys had some secret notion to catch a glimpse of the old Haruhi, they had topped off her costume with a wig that once again decked her out in elegant, flowing mahogany tresses. Having seen enough of herself, Haruhi made her way toward the door.

Making certain to lock the third music room behind her, all movement had been cut short upon realizing the presence of a second person alongside her.

"Ms. Fujioka. This mode of dress suits you well."

Turning around, she glanced up at Yoshio Ootori, her expression emphasizing the knowledge that discussing her wardrobe was not what he had come for.

"I simply came to apologize for what happened earlier today. I'm not proud of myself, and it was something you should not have had to see."

"I'm not the one you owe an apology to. And the entire situation should never have happened."

"Fair enough." Having little to say to the man, Haruhi waited on him to get to his point.

"The whole thing is a bit ironic." Yoshio mused, "For years, I've held recognition and accolades just outside of Kyoya's reach. He plays the game exceedingly well, when I don't even believe he values the outcome as much as his brothers. It seems as though he's found something better for himself."

"Pardon my asking, sir, but why are you telling me all of this?"

"I suppose being honest up front would be best... You're an impressive young woman, Ms. Fujioka. I would like it very much if when the time is right, you would agree to marry my son. Despite what I showed earlier in the day, I understand him to be a reliable and caring young man who will undoubtedly treat you well. He cares about you and can provide you a sturdy future. I feel as if I owe him this much."

For the first time in her life, Haruhi understood what it felt like to be truly furious. Allowing herself a moment to sift through her thoughts, she was more thankful than ever to have learned a certain sense of tact within the host club.

"I'm sorry, but I don't accept your offer."

"Excuse me?"

"With all due respect, I would never accept a marriage proposal from you on your son's behalf. While I don't know what will happen in the future, I already know him to be reliable and caring. Kyoya is brilliant, and he already treats me well."

"I see. I suppose I'll just have to respect that."

"Thank you, sir."

"I appreciate you allowing me a moment of your time. I do believe you have a dance to get to."

Pivoting away from the older man, she chose a lengthier direction toward the ballroom in hopes that the walk might cool her down.

.

Standing at the edge of the ballroom, his hands folded behind his back, Kyoya smiled pleasantly for the room full of young women; many of them clients. He watched quietly as several of the hosts glided across the floor, delighted school girls in hand. Catching Tamaki's eye as he danced nearby, his best friend flashed him a bright smile. Across the room he could see Mori casually leaning against the wall. Feeling a pair of eyes on him, the ever-vigilant young man turned Kyoya's way and nodded.

_It's hard to tell if they're acknowledging me out of pity or normalcy, yet either way, I don't really care. After completing my last transaction, there is very little that's going to get me down. He can hit me all he wants, that won't change much of anything at this point._

Kyoya's train of thought refocused completely upon catching sight of the now publicly feminine Haruhi. Having garnered much of the room's attention, her stride was meek and her stature modest, as she made her way onto the floor. Unwilling to wait any longer, he reached for her hand after meeting her halfway.

Smiling up at him, she greeting him with a simple, "Hey."

"It's mind-boggling to think that you still have no idea how beautiful you are. Do you?"

She unintentionally confirmed his statement as a light scarlet crept up her face, whereupon he decided use the moment to sweep her onto the dance floor.

"Thanks. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Despite my father's public display of... affection. The rest of my day has gone rather well."

"Kyoya, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. You had nothing to do with it. And not to defend my getting hit, but it only seems fair to clarify that he's never done anything like that before."

All he got from her was a slow nod_. I don't care. What am I supposed to say to that? "Oh, what a relief!" That's unlikely._

She stared past him as they stepped in time to the music. To say the least, her first Ouran fair had not gone as she'd expected.

"Kyoya, I don't know if this is the right time, but there's something I'd really like to say to you."

Quirking an eyebrow at her, he was certain that enough surprises and anticipation had transpired to last him for the rest of his days. "Yes?"

Feeling her gumption beginning to wane, Haruhi leaned in to him, and in a whisper declared, "I love you."

Pulling Haruhi away from his body, Kyoya removed the troublesome wig that had falsely framed her face, and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Now able to properly look her in the eye, he once again brought her closer.

"Can you say that again?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They spent the remainder of a waltz savoring one another before a more familiar rendition of happiness swooped in, gleaning on their moment.

"Haru-Chan!"

"Hey, Huni-Senpai!"

Adding flourish to his entrance, the adorable third-year offered Kyoya a deep bow before asking for Haruhi's next dance. He obliged their friend's request, and Haruhi smiled softly at him as Huni-Senpai twirled them away.

.

Walking down the empty hall, Haruhi looked out the windows at the reddened blaze that came courtesy of the setting sun. Still in the throes of spring, the red that appeared so full of light and warmth, was in truth still a chilled illusion. It would be quite some time before she felt she could rely on any nourishment or thaw it may offer.

Breathing in, she came to a stop outside an unfamiliar door.

_Am I sure about this? Is this what it really feels like to be brash? Impulsive? Or as Tamaki likes to say, it will be good experience..._

Not long after knocking, a familiar voice invite her to come within. Looking around, the room held an understated suggestion of affluence. Subtle and practical in style, there could be no doubt that the furniture within the room likely cost more than a year's rent for her apartment. She softened her assessment upon sighting an old crayon portrait of the chairman's family, which sat prominently on the desk in a frame.

"Thank you for seeing me again, sir."

"You're more than welcome, Haruhi-chan. Or is kun?"

"As you see fit."

The older man smiled at her politeness. "Either way, I'm sure. I'm simply thankful that you thought well enough of me to take serious my offer, should you need help."

"I've been thinking about your suggestion. I think it would be a wonderful opportunity, and a great experience for me to spend a year in America."

"I see. While I was hoping you'd say yes, I'm somewhat shocked at how little time it's taken you to make your decision. This wouldn't have anything to do with Ootori-Sama, would it?"

"What I said before about opportunity and experience is true. But yes, after today's interactions, I feel like I could only be a distraction for Kyoya if I stay."

"Do you really see yourself that way, Haruhi? It seems to me just the opposite. Your appearance here has been a blessing for each of those boys."

"Just the same, sir. If the offer still stands, I feel it may be an opportunity to do something good both for myself and Kyoya."

Taking a moment to analyze the girl, he could not help but feel that she was moving too fast in making this decision, and perhaps was selling the young man short. _Ah, but they are still so young. Good intentions might not always defend our actions, but perhaps this will help them know what it is they truly want._

"Alright, then. The spring term is nearly over. We'll schedule a meeting between the two of us and your father. The American school year begins in August, and I'm sure we can have you set up some time in early summer."

Blinking back the tears in her eyes, Haruhi nodded. "Thank you."

* * *

.

.

So, that was long. I hope you enjoyed it!

I had a lot of fun writing this, and am glad to have had a busy enough schedule that I was forced to take this chapter slower, and chew on it. I melded bits and pieces of the anime and manga together. To clarify, I used about 99 percent of Haruhi's speech defending Kyoya in Episode 25, albeit under slightly different circumstances. There are one or two other similar pieces of dialogue for Kyoya and his father, which should be rather easy to point out. Certainly not plagiarized, but there were a few things whose caliber seemed worth including in one way or another. So there's my mild disclaimer.

Again, endless thanks to you all for reading this and keeping up with me in the way of private messages and comments. I love it. :)

**To Lady L**: You've been around for several of my stories and are always gracious to leave comments and feedback. As a guest, I'm unable to PM you, so would just like to say this: I'd like to shred up every comment you've ever left me, and roll around in them like the glorious confetti that they are. Thanks for the encouragement! :)

I've found another song that reminds me a lot of Kyoya. It's by a band called Tribes, and is called Corner of an English Field. Seems like it'd be a good comfort song for him.

Also, here are the lyrics for The Funeral Party, which were written by Robert Smith, Laurence Tolhurst, and Simon Gallup (The Cure!).

Two pale figures  
Ache in silence  
Timeless  
In the quiet ground  
Side by side  
In age and sadness

I watched  
And acted wordlessly  
As piece by piece  
You performed your story  
Moving through an unknown past  
Dancing at the funeral party

Memories of childrens dreams  
Lie lifeless  
Fading  
Lifeless  
Hand in hand with fear and shadows  
Crying at the funeral party

I heard a song  
And turned away  
As piece by piece  
You performed your story  
Noiselessly across the floor  
Dancing at the funeral party


	5. Chapter 5

She had notified him of her decision as soon as the paperwork had cleared, during the last days of the school year. Her declaration had upended him emotionally, yet through it all he'd kept a straight face while his senses of well-being and morale slowly began to fall apart. No, she did not want their relationship to end. Yes, she would be leaving him. _When you think about it, a year is really only a short while..._ Despite it all, his grades had never wavered, his pleasant conduct within club in no way displaced.

Presenting her news as an opportunity for adventure and new experience, he remained unconvinced of such claims, as these were words that rang of newness and growth. Had that been the case, surely she would have mentioned something to him earlier. In this way, she was leaving them with little more than a few weeks to be with one another, and still insisted the two of them would be alright.

It would be best to carry on normally, she had said. Even so, everything began to change, as the casual demeanor she had come to know in him began to disappear. Unsurprised that he would retreat into his thoughts, the subtle drop in conversation had been expected. He supplemented his silence by showcasing his best nonchalant smile, while offering her ideas of sights and excursions to partake in while in America. Of his sincerity, neither one was convinced.

Intimacy became an occasion to both savor and dread. Having initiated a plan she was not even certain she believed in, she had granted him permission to access the whole of her, only to find him holding back. It mattered not that she lay there only for him, all at once beautiful, delicate, and wet. What she was offering was a parting gift, and he would have none of it.

Shoving aside his youthful grief over what seemed an impending loss neither of them wanted, Kyoya was fairly certain of her motivation. Upsetting and soul-dissolving as the problem may have felt, he recognized it not as a time of concession, but one of decision and action. Turning thoughts and notions over time and again, he would take all things into consideration before making his move.

.

Expelling an impatient sigh, Kyoya turned his back away from the offensive blue sky that now threatened to filter into the room. With one more day to put up with before Haruhi's departure, he was in no mood to deal with various elements that were contradictory to his present spirit. Feeling bleak and disinterested, he now laid across his bed while waiting on his phone alarm to signal him to a meeting that his father had set up with him. Passing the time, he replayed remnants from a conversation that had occurred the previous week.

"_Tamaki, I need you to go to America with Haruhi."_

"_Come again?"_

"_Proverbially speaking, I have no intention of letting her go. But it seems only fair that I not get in her way, either. In the mean time, it would be ludicrous to send her across the world alone to deal with any number of things by herself."_

"_You mean other boys."_

"_Not to snub an entire culture, but American teens seem to lack quite a bit of modesty."_

"_You know what's funny is that my dad asked me to go with her, too."_

"_Really now? What did you say?"_

_The inquisitive expression lighting up Kyoya's features was in no way lost on Tamaki, who now raised his hands as if to calm some ancient, nefarious beast._

"_Chill out, Kyoya. I didn't say anything. I told him I didn't know."_

"_Interesting."_

"_Anyway, I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing as you. He may have been the one who suggested she study in America, but he knows better than to send her off alone."_

"_Fair enough. It's also clear that the chairman thinks rather well of Haruhi."_

"_Oh, come off it! You just asked me to go with her, yourself!"_

"_Sorry. I know. That alone should tell you that I entirely trust you."_

"_Thank you."_

_Frustrated, Kyoya a half-hearted shrug and nodded._

"_You know," Tamaki drawled, "My father told me something else, too."_

"_Yes?"_

"_Haruhi told him that she feels like a distraction. That you'd be better off without her."_

_Feeling disheartened, he thought back to the Ouran fair, where there had been darkened exchanges of words._

"_A frivolous waste of time is what this is..."_

"_Almost anything can be considered a distraction..."_

"_Dammit."_

Had she never bothered to sit next to him in the first place, none of this would have happened. Had she visited his table once and moved on, he would have savored her company, then went on his way. Her consistency and his curiosity were the enablers that allowed him to justify moving in before Tamaki ever had a chance. There had been the slightest feeling of guilt, but never an urge for apologies, and he understood that Tamaki would have done the same. Considering how each of them saw the appeal in this strange and lovely girl, Kyoya was simply fortunate enough that his feelings were the ones to win her reciprocity. And there was nothing he could have done about that.

Interrupted by his phone's sudden chime, the device indicated the arrival of a new text message.

"Sry I got mad about Tamaki coming along. I get it. Love u."

There was a rush of relief, not only for her anger having subsided, but also in knowing that during her travels, at no point would she be left vulnerable or alone. Conflict began rising in Kyoya's chest as the latter also ground its message straight into his heart.

_I'm the reason she's leaving in the first place. A coward sending another man off in his place instead of voicing his intentions. Maybe I don't deserve her, after all.. I guess we'll see when whatever happens, happens._

Shifting his weight, he moved to feel the mutilated skin on his hip. Fingering the scars, he compared the emotions running through him now to the ones that had enveloped him back then. Undoubtedly, they were different. Just the same, it would be simple enough to have another go, just this once.

_Come on, Ootori! You don't fall back that easily. Think about what your little self indulgence would cost you down the road. She'd blame herself for your weakness. Is that the sort of man you plan to be?_

Closing his eyes, he simulated that familiar feeling with the edge of a fingernail. Pressing hard against the years-old scar, he waited for the trickle of blood that would never come. It was in that moment that his own anger surfaced, which surprising even to himself, was geared toward Haruhi.

_That was a long time ago. Who does she think I am?!_

_Ouran fair might have looked bad, but that was just a part of my life she's not used to seeing. He's always been a hardass. I knew. It was all accounted for. Kind of. Although, I never told her the rest of my plans. I kept her separate from all of that, so how was she supposed to know that I had everything under control? How was she supposed to know that I've been preparing for something better? Perhaps if I'd told her, she wouldn't have made this choice on her own._

_Whatever. I'm sick of games, and I don't want her to go. I suppose I should have thought of that, earlier..._

Glancing toward the clock, he was reminded of his father's meeting. Uncertain of what the man wanted to discuss, Kyoya had an idea, along with a few agenda items of his own. Sliding off the bed, he readjusted his clothing, pushed the glasses upon his nose, and chose to discard the melancholy behind him.

* * *

.

.

'Allo! Chapter Five on deck! Have a lovely Friday, all. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Standing in front of his father, Kyoya glanced down at his reflection in the polished wood of the desk. When all of the paperwork had been cleared away, it might have been possible for Yoshio to do the same. Kyoya began to wonder exactly how his father would glimpse whatever portrait appeared.

_Well, I doubt enough of these files have ever been pulled so far away..._

Without warning, his thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of his father's throat.

"I wanted to apologize to you for my actions during your school fair. I was far too harsh in general, let alone a public setting."

"Thank you, Father."

"On top of that, I'd like to discuss the matter of my medical supply company having been bought right out from under me."

"What part of it would you like to discuss, Father?"

Though the issue had been addressed soon after the deal's completion, Yoshio could not help but feel that Kyoya's innocuous question belied a somewhat arrogant, if not triumphant, undertone. _Perhaps he deserves to have it, this once. I don't ever recall his brothers taking such steps to demonstrate their capabilities._

"Considering that you were able to handle such a feat while maintaining school and that club of yours, I suppose at the end of the day I'm curious as to what your intentions are. Especially since you handed the company right back to me."

It was a fair question. Having rarely ever deviated from his father's expectations, Kyoya's doing so near the end of his high school career seemed an all-too risky move for a third son who had spent so long doing what he had been told. If anything, it would appear to be the time for securing his father's support via his pre-collegiate endeavors.

_Unless his goals have changed..._

Looking the boy straight in the eye, Yoshio waited for the explanation that was to come. For all the intricacies and time involved for his youngest son to make such a bold statement, he was expecting it to be good.

"My brothers have made it clear that they consider me an unimpressive non-threat as a competitor for heir. In turn, most of the time I see them as self-entitled puppets."

"Most of the time?"

"Well, they are still my brothers. They have their good points."

"And how about me?"

"You're my father. It's never been my intention to let you down, or threaten you in any capacity. I gave you back the company because the Ootori Group needs it."

"Are you not an Ootori? Why not keep it?"

"Keeping it would be symbolic of me holding a personal achievement over my father's head. As I've said, that's not what I want. Although, technically, I do still own the company. I just returned complete managerial rights to you."

"Yes, I believe I read that in the contract... Which has me asking again: what exactly is your intention? At this point, I have to imagine you've learned a few things about business. And yourself."

"In keeping ownership, I was simply ensuring I'd have quick and unbarred access to anything I like while studying in medical school."

"I see. Well, I'm glad to hear you still plan on medical school."

"To actually practice medicine, Father. I want to serve our family well, but I don't want to be locked up in a board room forever. My intentions are to continue being the best in whatever I do. I might be good at it, but at the end of the day, business doesn't exactly interest me. With your blessing, I'd much rather contribute to the Ootori legacy in my own way. "

"By practicing medicine. Did you have any specialization in mind?"

"I was thinking cardiology. Perhaps also statistics and research for the field."

"Interesting. And what about this Haruhi Fujioka?"

Doing well to maintain a straight, indifferent face, Kyoya's toes curled apprehensively inside his shoes. _What a blatant change of subject, Father. Or is it..._

"What about her?"

"Well, after the way she stood up for you, I have to imagine there was a good reason why."

"She did it because that's how she treats her friends."

"I see. And now it's likely that in this very moment, she's packing her suitcase before leaving as an exchange student in America. What do you plan to do about that?"

"Studying in America was Haruhi's idea. I don't see where the benefit lies in me trying to stop her."

"And yet you sent Suoh's boy to take care of her in your place. It would appear to me that you're not quite as smart as you think you are."

"Father?"

"I'll be honest with you, Kyoya. I sent your sister off into an arranged marriage without thinking twice. While Fuyuumi would never truly complain, I see her awkwardness every time she shows up here, unannounced. As for your brothers, well, perhaps you weren't so far off in calling them puppets. Yuuichi has never even bothered searching for love, and expects he'll eventually be supplied with a partner. At least Akito is a bit more... proactive... Practically looking for the perfect business marriage all on his own."

_Why is he telling me this? To hell with it! Ask a question and go for broke._

"What about you and Mother?"

"She's a good wife, and an even better mother." Yoshio stopped, assessing his youngest son's analytical expression before continuing on, "Arranged marriages don't always work out, Kyoya. But if two parties are willing to stay involved, sometimes love develops, there."

"That sounds... Persevering."

"As for whatever your intentions with Ms. Fujioka are, her loyalty and intelligence speak for themselves."

"Yes, they do." _Wait. What?_ "Father, you didn't-"

"I'm sorry to report that your girlfriend turned me down."

_Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit..._

Signaling that their meeting was now over, Yoshio moved out from behind the domineering thing he referred to as a desk. Kyoya moved in kind, as both father and son reached for the door. Watching his son now incessantly reposition his glasses, a mixed pang of humor and guilt began to seep into his conscience.

"That's not to say, however, that she would turn _you_ down. It seems I more or less insulted her intelligence. I recommend you don't do the same."

It seemed that for the moment, all of the stuffy pretenses had been blown away, along with half of Kyoya's mind. Seeing no reason to stop now, he decided to keep the conversation going.

"Father, may I ask you a question?"

"I suppose."

"Have you ever spoken with Akito or Yuuichi in this manner?"

Giving a barely-there sigh, the elder man remained looking forward, "Not exactly. Our conversations, regardless of how I've tried, inevitably steer back around to business. As for Fuyuumi, she has your mother that she can relate to."

"I see."

"Who knows. Perhaps you'll be able to teach your brothers a thing or two."

Savoring the rarity of the situation, Yoshio and Kyoya Ootori continued to walk alongside one another in silence. For the first time in years, Kyoya felt as though he had gotten his father back. Not knowing how long the amiable exchange would last, he allowed himself solace in knowing that at the very least, there was no indestructible wall separating them. When needed, it appeared that any other obstructions between them would be manageable.

_I'm going to go ahead and call this entire situation the ultimate Ootori mindfuck, although not an entirely bad one. Definitely not what I expected... Now. I think I'll put in a call to the chairman..._

Coming upon the foyer of their large home, father and son now looked toward another before going their separate ways. For the moment, all pressure had been shaken off as they simply existed together.

Kyoya threw him an apprehensive grin, "So, I guess this means I'm no longer in the running for heir?"

"I suppose it does. It's too bad, considering at the end of the day I'm a big believer in meritocracy."

It mattered very little to Kyoya that no one else was around to have heard it. Deciding to shirk off the ever-pressing memories of emotional and mental strife, he held on tight to recent acknowledgments, and counted it.

.

Forehead pressed complacently against the window, Haruhi seemed all at once unimpressed and undaunted at the fact that she was presently coasting at 30,000 feet in the air. While on the outside she exuded utter despondency, her mind was in the middle of stirring itself into an unsightly mess. Looking down at the passing clouds, she sighed.

_So this is actually happening. I should be excited, but I'm not... Would I even be doing this were it not for everything that went down at the fair? I've had plenty of time to back out, so I'd like to think so... Although, I would have talked it over with him, first... He seemed too casual at the airport, this morning._

"_You know, we'll both be so busy that it should go by fast."_

"_I'm sure."_

"_I'll be home at Christmas. We'll see each other, then."_

"_I know."_

_Choosing not to prolong the difficulty of their awkward situation, he'd given her one last kiss before making his exit. Trailing his thumb across her lips, he'd found it easiest to throw on a host's smile, although part of him simply hated it. Loathed seeing her tangled inside her undeserving web of guilt._

"_Be happy, Haruhi. Not even the kids with money can count themselves fortunate enough to be chosen as Ouran exchange students. You have to work for it. And really. What's so impressive about money?"_

_Staring toward the ground, she tried to be happy in glancing at their intertwined hands._

"_You said it yourself. Time will go by fast. It won't be so long. I promise."_

With that, he'd kissed her before disappearing beyond the security gates. Despite the sweetness and candor of his words, she couldn't help but anticipate that their next line of communication would be in the form of a phone call or letter, informing her of his decision to move on. He was a third year, after all, with a promising future on the horizon. Like it or not, he was an Ootori, and would always step up in a certain way when necessary.

_Maybe I should have accepted his father's offer... Wait, Haruhi—You are not an asset to be acquired! It doesn't matter if you think you love him. Ugh! It may have been subconscious before, but now I really know why I decided on America..._

_Oh, Mother in Heaven..._

Exhaling, she leaned forward, cradling her face in her hands.

"Feeling airsick, Haruhi?"

Shaking her head, she smiled. "I wouldn't call it airsick, Senpai."

Giving her a sympathetic nod, Tamaki moved to catch her hand in his own. Uncertain of the intention behind his gentle grip, she discreetly moved her hand from beneath his.

"I'm sorry, Tamaki. I don't think I can do this right now."

Pulling his mouth in a half frown, he moved his hand away. "I know. I'm sorry."

Allowing the world to view him as overly emotional, impulsive and abrupt, the truth of it was that Tamaki had spent years crafting internal and external barriers that helped him keep the depth of his emotions hidden. Presently, he found himself more than thankful for having learned to prevent others from seeing the true brunt of his emotions. Keeping certain pieces to himself seemed a better plan than ever, as Haruhi's tears chose the same moment to betray how she was truly feeling.

Putting the seemingly impossible behind him, Tamaki drew an arm across her shoulder, and allowed Haruhi a safe place to cry.

* * *

.

.

Chapter Six! Final exams are nearly here, and they seemed to have a hit out on me. So I went into hiding and wrote another chapter until things seemed safe to come out...

Thanks for reading! Yoshio didn't exactly take on the attitude that I thought he was going to in this chapter, but I can still see him having this conversation with Kyoya. You know. If the conditions were entirely right, and no one managed to piss him off earlier in the day.

I hope your weekend is treating you well. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Taking a few steps back, Haruhi glanced around with a sigh of relief. It was done. Having taken the better part of a day, she had finally situated what was to be her bedroom for the upcoming year. Arranging the rest of the apartment had been a relatively brief affair, as it merely required common sense and a decisive taste for practicality. While the space in question was indeed her own, she had gone into the endeavor with an understanding that Tamaki would likely be an inevitable presence much of the time. Between the two of them, she had no worries that the rather bland home would warm up soon enough.

Her bedroom, on the other hand, had earned the affectionate nickname of No Man's Land, if only in her mind. After spending most of her first few days in Boston attempting to shake spasms of frustration and guilt, she had thrown herself into arranging and decorating her bedroom as she saw fit. Ultimately, she had found comfort by keeping clean lines and a simplicity of hues, while allowing a shrine to her mother to be the single pop of color in the room. Relishing in the one luxury she'd allowed herself, Haruhi stared longingly at the oversized, goose down comforter draped across her bed. Content with the end product, she took one last look around before moving on to other projects.

_It's nice to know there's an unwritten rule that not just anyone may walk into a girl's bedroom. Tamaki may borderline on needy at times, but he's still a gentleman, so I doubt I'll have to outright tell him that._

Upon exiting the bedroom, her sight immediately landed upon Tamaki, who now stood examining what he perceived to be an ill-placed piece of furniture.

"Haruhi, have you not decided where to put this table?"

"No, I have. It goes right there."

"In front our door?!"

"Yep. I'm happy you're here, Senpai. We'll spend plenty of time together, but I don't want you thinking you can just come and go as you please, through that adjoining door."

"Haruhi! What if there's an emergency?"

"There won't be. And while we're on the subject of rules, I think we should do our best to speak mainly in English while we're here."

"That's fine. But the table-"

"You don't have to knock, but whenever you feel like visiting, only use the front door. The table stays. Also, I don't mind doing the cooking for both of us, since there isn't too much we can do about it."

Raising his hand to protest, Tamaki's rebuttal was cut short by a loud rapping at the door. The two of them rerouted their attention upon hearing an upbeat, awkward American accent on the other side of the threshold. Turning back toward Tamaki, she threw him a quizzical expression. He simply shrugged in return.

_It can't be..._

Quickly moving for the knob, she did her best not to whip open the door in a haphazard frenzy. On the other side stood the remainder of the host club, whose smiles expressed their enthusiasm not only for such an impromptu reunion, but for simply having made their destination.

She found herself thankful for the evident look of elation across her face, as the present situation had temporarily rendered her speechless.

_Mother in Heaven... I've got to learn to stop underestimating these people!_

"Haru-Chan! We came to see you and Tama-Chan!"

"Hey, Huni! Um, thanks for the visit?"

"Well, you see," Hikaru explained, "We're all going to have to study abroad someday."

"So why not today?" Kaoru offered her a playful grin while finishing their rationalization.

Laughter ensued as the twins moved past her, comparing the similar layouts of their new apartments with the rest of the group. Haruhi glanced around bewildered, while everyone else filed inside. At the end of the line stood Kyoya, who approached her with a small, yet boastful smile. Wrapping her in a hug, he hummed in her ear, "Didn't I tell you time wouldn't take as long as you thought?"

Still shocked at his presence, she happily nodded.

Looking around the room, she took in the noisy scene in front of her. _Well, I'm sure glad the lot of them didn't hear me offer to cook dinner every evening..._ Her eye landed on Tamaki, who was currently having trouble keeping an over excited Antoinette from trying to make lunch out of Mori's pet tanuki. Heading toward the refrigerator, she pulled out some carrots and suggested the small animal take shelter at higher ground.

"Tamaki," Kyoya called out, "Why don't we take Antoinette over to your place, then you can walk upstairs to mine?"

"Sure..."

Calling the golden retriever away from the crowd, Tamaki left her to relax on her own before making the short trek with Kyoya. Despite his attempt to maintain his typical cool, his excitement was more than evident.

"I just want to throw this notebook on the table for the night. Now that we're finally here, I don't see much use in toting it around for the rest of the day. Maybe not even tomorrow..."

"Way to loosen up, Kyo."

"I'm sorry for having not told you my plans for coming here. To be honest, I wasn't sure when I'd be able to make it happen, and certainly wasn't counting on so soon. As it turned out, some things fell into place rather well, and I'm not about to waste any time. And given the chance to leave immediately, it seemed kind of asinine to leave without informing and inviting the rest of the club."

"Yeah. I'm glad you brought them, too."

Keeping silent while he went on, he listened to Kyoya detail the conversation he'd had with his father, and how afterward he didn't hesitate to get in touch with the chairman to make the group's arrangements. As luck would have it, he'd even managed to have his apartment sparsely furnished before his arrival, and was thrilled to have one less thing to think about.

Almost uncharacteristically, Kyoya went on and on, even while unlocking the door to his apartment, leaving no room for Tamaki to get a word in, edgewise. Finally feeling as though he were talking to himself, he turned around, only to realize that he was alone in the apartment. Looking about, he found Tamaki standing barely inside the threshold. The expression on the blonde's face was dire, the austerity within his posture not the sort Kyoya had thought him capable of.

"Are you coming in?" Being met by silence, he implored whether or not anything was wrong.

Quietly staring at the ground, the words came quickly, a sense of conviction emerging from the barely audible mumble. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Excuse me?"

"You were supposed to stay in Japan."

Ignoring the slight pang in his chest, Kyoya straightened his spine and looked directly at his friend. "And why exactly is that, Tamaki?"

"This was supposed to be the second chance that I needed! Time would pass, you'd focus more on post-graduation and your family's business, and all I'd have to do is wait things out."

"Wow." Crossing his arms defensively, he walked back across the room, meeting Tamaki in the doorway. "Would you like a written apology for my having ruined your plans?"

"Come on, Kyoya! You can still trust me. You know I'd never-"

"You'd never what? Too honorable to make an outright move or confess yourself, but you were willing to bet on me giving her up? That's rich."

"And what about you? Seriously, asking me to go with your girlfriend to America?"

"Because you're my best friend, and I wasn't sure how long it would take for me to tie up personal matters with my father. Don't forget, I didn't exactly have ample warning, either. As soon as I found out, I started making plans to be here, too."

Very little remained to be laid out in front of them. Ultimately, it was not as complicated a situation as Tamaki's heart had wanted it to be. The fact was, that no reasonable villain could be claimed at this juncture, nor did either of them want to create one. Whereas Haruhi had been naturally drawn toward Kyoya, any feelings she could possibly develop for himself would only ever occur over an inconceivable stretch of time. Occasionally, he felt it would be worth the wait to climb aboard what would inevitably be a ferris wheel of tedium.

Alas, as much as she loved him and valued their friendship, there could be no doubt that his affections were an acquired taste that she seemed to have little, to no interest in. Feeling disheartened, Tamaki was willing to at least mentally concede that while his jealousy thrived, he could not justifiably remain angry with his friend, either.

"You knew how I felt about Haruhi!"

"That's true. But did you, _Daddy_? Honestly, Tam, I'm sorry if you came to your senses a little too late in the game, but did you really think I'd step away so easily?"

"Not necessarily. A man can dream, though."

_Nice... _"I suppose."

"Just answer one question for me."

Feeling exasperated, his hands set onto his hips impatiently before huffing out an answer. "Sure. Why not..."

"I know it's not your fault she came all the over here on a whim. I get it. But aren't you even a little mad at Haruhi?"

"Not really. To be honest, it does seem to be at least partially my fault."

Raising an eyebrow, Tamaki decided to turn and face Kyoya entirely, allowing his body to loosen slightly. "How do you figure?"

"As you said before, she felt like a distraction. It makes sense, considering my tunnel-vision, and the way my dad reacted at the fair. For a while, I got hung up perfecting business with the club, and finalizing the buyout of my father's company. I'd been working on that buyout for the better part of a year—well before any prospect of Haruhi came along. A few months into our relationship, I started comparing the notion of life with her versus whomever my father might eventually pair me up with, and I kind of went into overdrive. No way I was going to leave any numbers or variables unturned. I wanted to make a statement in the first place, but what I didn't count on..."

Recalling the inception of their conversation, he questioned whether or not to finish his sentence. Taking a deep breath, he continued as Tamaki gesticulated for him to spit it out. "What I didn't count on was falling in love with Haruhi."

Pausing, seconds passed by while the still silent Tamaki waited for him to finish talking, the inflection behind his previous words having been made clear.

"At that point, I needed to make sure that the buyout didn't simply work out. I needed it to be my pièce de résistance. And I believe it was. Anyways, I kept all of that to myself. Perhaps sharing some of that with Haruhi would have made her less prone to jump to conclusions. Or who knows, maybe that would have overwhelmed her, too. Doesn't matter much, considering we're all here, now."

"What if things with Haruhi don't work out?"

Kyoya stared at him over the top of his glasses. "Nice, Tamaki. Way to carry the dream... I suppose if things don't last between me and Haruhi, at the very least, it should be clear to my father that I'll be making my own decisions in that regard. But just so you know, I have no intention of this not working out."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Tamaki considered where to go from here. It seemed that the discussion had reached a point where any further argument would only lead them around in a loathsome, possibly irreparable circle. He offered a weak smile, and shrugged in resignation. "Alright, then. I guess that's it."

"That's it? You were pissed when we first came up here."

"Yeah, well. It's not worth messing things up when it seems like life may be taking on a pleasant enough sense of order. I suppose she could do worse than Kyoya Ootori."

"Indeed. Does this mean you and I are okay?"

"You're lucky that I love you like a brother. It'll make it that much more difficult to hate you. Besides, I always imagined I'd have you nearby whenever I had the chance to experience America."

The two of them stood assessing one another while an awkward, yet manageable silence fell between them. Bringing with it a sense of tension not felt since the beginning days of their friendship, there also permeated a sense of contentment in knowing that theirs was a camaraderie built to endure and overcome.

There was a sudden break in atmosphere as the female in question appeared outside the apartment, granting them a courtesy knock before entering.

In a surreal moment, the two boys greeted her simultaneously by name, at which she just smiled.

"I'm supposed to let you both know that everyone else wants to go get dinner in about an hour." She completed her message while shifting her gaze toward Kyoya, "In the meantime, Huni-Senpai volunteered to go out and scout for nearby restaurants."

Already feeling emotionally exhausted and unwilling to overstay his welcome, Tamaki gave Haruhi a pat on the shoulder while thanking her for the update. Perhaps the twins needed help unpacking, or Antoinette a brisk walk amid the city's sunset. Surely there were no shortages of other places he could be. Giving Kyoya a supportive nod, he made his exit.

Allotting Haruhi his full attention, Kyoya placed his hands on her hips to gently guide her further into the apartment, before shutting the door. He could feel the stress leaving his body as she responded to his touch—not as she had during the past several weeks—but as she had in the beginning. Enveloping her in his arms, he brought himself closer, so as to whisper in her ear.

"Is it okay that I'm here?"

Tightening her grip on him, she buried her face into his chest while nodding in approval. "Kyoya, I am so sorry... I thought coming to America might be doing us both a favor, but I went about it so wrong. I just sat there, hating myself the entire trip here."

"Just try to talk to me before making another major decision like that. I'm sorry if I came off as inaccessible."

"It's fine," she said, weaving her fingers through the belt loops of his pants, "Talking is good."

"Indeed, talking is good. Important, even." Sliding his hands beneath her shirt, he pulled Haruhi away from his body so as to better look at her, all the while running his hands from one delicately curved place to another.

"There are actually several things I should catch you up on, although they will have to wait."

"Yeah?"

Draping an arm around her waist, he moved to bring her hips flush against his own. Pressing against her, his pace unhurried, Kyoya began to lead them toward the bedroom. Having discarded her shirt en route, he busied himself laying kiss after kiss at her collar bone. Saying nothing, Haruhi allowed herself to be directed backward, while relishing the feel of his arousal against her jeans. Movement came to a halt as the back of her legs met the edge of an anticipated piece of furniture.

"All that traveling was rather exhausting, Haruhi." His voice came out in a whispered drawl, the length of his words perfectly syncopated to the time required to splay her out in front of him. "I haven't even had a chance to try out my new bed."

"You poor thing."

Hovering over top of her, he nodded in agreement before taking a bra strap between his teeth, allowing it to lightly snap against her otherwise bare skin. "You have no idea..."

"You could always tell me about it."

"I could, but I'm much more interested in showing you."

"Now?"

"Why not? We have some time."

She found very little to argue with as the familiar feeling of his weight settled down beside her. Sliding a hand inside her jeans, he pulled her body close while taking in the feel of her against his palm. Sighing, she raked her fingers back through his hair, her grip an indication of his providing a job well done.

Reaching behind, she wanted desperately to not only feel him, but to reciprocate what this architect of euphoria had been building up inside of her. Declining her approach, he gently interfered with her movement, opting to further close the space between them, instead.

"Really, Haruhi. If you take everything now, there might not be any left for later."

She responded through stilted breathes. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

_If I can help it, no one else will access her like this for the rest of our lives... I want this. _"Is there any reason I shouldn't be?"

"I don't know. Somehow, you seem to have it all figured out."

_Indeed, Haruhi. Having the world's best poker face will get you far. Though most of the time you manage to somehow see right through it..._

She let go of a sharp gasp as the once delicately paced rhythm of his hand began to arpeggio into something grander. Craning her neck, she sought to meet his eyes.

"Kyoya?'

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Smiling quietly, he brought his lips to hers, swallowing her final declaration of pleasure with a kiss. "I love you, too."

Any thought of moving came only after several minutes had passed, the two of them content simply to engage in silence and skin. Sitting up, he slid onto the edge of the bed. Glancing in her direction, he slowly licked his fingers clean. "Don't worry about it, Haruhi. You can always repay me later. With the rest of your body."

* * *

Finally! This chapter's been taunting me. I hope it finds you all well. :)

Also! I brought a few new songs into the fold for this chapter, as well as the ones I've brought up, before. I think I might consolidate the more influential of the list into a soundtrack when I'm all done. But for now, the other songs that popped up include:

Cut It Out, Kitten

Work, Jimmy Eat World

Please, Please Please, Muse (The Smiths original, too. But Muse's seems more appropriate.)


	8. Chapter 8

Welcoming the chill of the sudden autumnal breeze, she allowed the scent of decaying leaves to invade her senses, and walked on. Leaves crunched softly beneath her shoes while others wisped across the sidewalk, whose cracks and chasms she had become accustomed to over the last several months. Lately, it was in the ringing of shop bells and the cacophony of going-home traffic that she often found a piece of solace for herself. There was comfort to be found in meandering with neither company nor destination to keep in mind; especially when it was the thought of certain people that she could not keep away.

.

_Nose pressed far inside a textbook, she sat with her legs over the side of a made-to-look-old, overstuffed chair. She looked up, offering a brief smile as the bespectacled boy took to the floor, leaning against the chair beside her._

"_My father is going to be in town tomorrow for business, and wants to have dinner with me."_

"_Will he? We've been here a while now; it should be nice for you to see him."_

"_I hope so. I was curious as to whether or not you'd like to join us."_

_Her hesitation to respond was answer enough for Kyoya. Waiting for her to speak, he gingerly slid the glasses back upon the bridge of his nose._

"_I don't know, Kyo. You barely get to see him as it is. You can send him my regards, though."_

_With a quiet sigh, he lifted himself off the floor. "Alright, then. Perhaps next time."_

_She nodded silently, wondering whether or not 'next time' would ever really come._

_._

The sun blazed orange, demanding attention from all who might witness its setting. Nearing the end of the shopping district, Haruhi pulled her coat closer to her neck, and turned on her heels in the direction of home.

Despite the school structure being blatantly different from that of Japan, Haruhi found herself growing fond of America's east coast. The drastic difference in seasons allowed her to keep her eyes and senses open, and had taught her to embrace the scene in front of her while not expecting it to remain the same. Trees, buildings, and places could make promise to always be near, though the impending shift in atmosphere also determined she anticipate change at any given moment. And so she did.

.

"_Haruhi! You're studying alone."_

"_Hey, Tamaki-Senpai. Yeah. It gets done quicker, this way."_

"_That's true. I would have thought Kyoya would be down here, too, though."_

"_You just missed him. I don't know where he is, now."_

"_Oh." Examining the small girl nestled in the chair, her casual tone was notably inconsistent with the expression she now tried to embed further into her textbook. Her efforts were aided by the chestnut tresses that were now beginning to find length, thus providing a subtle curtain for her face._

"_Is anything wrong, Haruhi?"_

_She glanced up at him, letting the now closed book slide toward her lap. "Not really, Senpai. I do feel a little bit guilty, though. I think I just dismissed an invitation to have dinner with Kyoya and his father."_

"_Oh, his father's here?"_

_She nodded, "He asked if I'd go with him, tomorrow night."_

"_And you said no?"_

"_Not in those precise words... But yes. I told him no. They should have time for themselves."_

"_That makes sense. But you know, Kyoya wouldn't have invited you, Haruhi, if you weren't welcome."_

"_I know."_

_Tamaki could feel frustration teeming inside him. Wanting nothing more than to provide succor, he could think of little else on the topic that would be helpful for either of his friends Or himself._

"_So, what else is on your mind?"_

_Swinging her legs to the front of the chair, she folded her hands in her lap, deciding what, if anything, she could say to him while still remaining tactful._

"_Not much. Advanced chemistry." Standing up, she let the textbook remain in the chair, "It's odd. I already know most of this stuff, but learning it in English makes it feel like I'm being forced to learn two things at once."_

_Welcoming the change of subject, Tamaki smiled. "I know, right? I'm just thankful that it seems more about getting a better grasp on the English as opposed to new content. My grandmother keeps sending me business materials to keep up with while I'm here..."_

_Haruhi listened while he spoke, all the while making her way toward the couch. Picking up the remote control, she silently asked him if he'd like to mentally check out for a while. Taking a respectable seat on the opposite end of the couch, he made himself comfortable, and settled in for a stint of American television._

_._

Surreal was the word she would have used to describe their arrival in America. It had taken hardly an instant for her status to transform from independent-young-exchange-student, into girl-drags-every-odd-comfort-from-home-abroad. Alas, even Haruhi could admit that regardless of how odd, a comfort was indeed, still a comfort.

With the setting in of routines and expectations, in no time at all the couple's summer had turned into a season of self-involved merriment and arousal. With the promise of extended daylight and a climate that accommodated them even further, the possibilities within their new city seemed infinite.

As the impending semester approached, however, her sentiments began to stale. Thrust back into the demands of academic life, she found trouble humoring the microcosm they had built, seemingly in order to play house with one another. Making an attempt to pull her focus back toward school, she began to grant herself more time alone, in addition to integrating the rest of their friends further into her routine. Weeks had passed before her mind picked up on the subconscious move to quietly distance herself from the young man she still believed herself to love.

Now midway through autumn, she had begun to fear that her unspoken assumption of space may have caused irreparable damage to the relationship. Time and again, any thought of broaching the subject left her still-internal monologue sounding confused and senseless. Where—how to start?

Still several blocks away from home, Haruhi began to direct her thoughts to lighter, more superficial fare. It was a notion seldom left answered, even in the prime of her youth. Her American classmates differed only slightly from those she'd left back in Japan. The opposite sex—peers and unattainable poster boys alike—were still an oft-discussed topic amongst her new female acquaintances.

_Moe still seems to be a foreign concept, here, though. Save for a very select few... I wonder how Ren-_

"Haruhi."

The abrupt departure from her thoughts, coupled with an unexpected presence had caused her to jump.

"Mori-Senpai!"

"How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks. Just taking a walk."

"You walk a lot, lately."

_He's noticed? _"Yeah, I guess I do. How do you-"

Smiling, her statuesque friend pointed out his current wardrobe, "I've been going to a dojo, nearby. I left early today, figuring you'd pass by."

"I see."

"So, how've you been?"

_He already asked that._ "Okay. How've you been, Senpai?"

"I'm good. I'm sorry to have asked twice. You just seem to be preoccupied, these days."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. You go out by yourself more, and spend less time with Kyoya."

_Mori's perceptive and all... But I still spend time with Kyoya... Is he the only one whose picked up on that?_

While her mind ran through a barrage of questions, the two of them silently walked on.

"Haruhi, I'm sure you've probably made a girlfriend or two while we're here, but if you need someone to talk to..."

She smiled appreciatively, and shook her head, "My classmates are nice, but there seems to be very little wavelength there."

"Ah."

Tucking a piece of hair behind an ear, she looked around and realized that what they presently had was a rare and discreet moment alone. "You really wouldn't mind listening for a while, Senpai?"

"I don't mind. But you'll have to start referring to me as Takashi, from now on."

Letting go of a deep breath, she nodded. "Okay then, Takashi. For starters, I suppose that lately I don't exactly know what it is that Kyoya is looking for."

"I could be wrong, but he seems to have what he wants. At this point, he doesn't seem to be looking for much of anything."

"I can see that. But what gets me, is that he seems happy to give so much more than most people our age would be willing to offer. That goes for America and Japan."

Glancing down at her, he nodded, indicated that she still had the floor.

"Did you know that his dad wanted to arrange him into a marriage with me?"

"I didn't."

"Yep. Right after the Ouran fair."

"What a smart and stupid man."

"Thanks. I think... Anyways, I'd barely turned 16 when all of that happened. And when I start thinking back on it, I realize that it wasn't all that long ago. I kind of got caught up and had to ask myself, 'Wow, am I really still 16?'"

Giving her a playful smile, Takashi shrugged. "You're just mature for your age."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"So, you're avoiding Kyoya because you feel like things are moving too fast?"

"About moving too fast: exactly. But I'm not trying to avoid him, per se." Looking down at the ground, she began to feel ashamed. _Why haven't I told Kyoya all of that?_

Taking note of her now limp spirits, he patted her on the head, "Your feelings aren't something to apologize for. But it might be good for you to explain it to him."

She allowed a small laugh at his impressive perception. "You're right about that."

"Hn."

"It probably won't happen tonight, though. Kyoya's having dinner with his father tonight. I should be there..."

"Then tell him soon. In the mean time, have dinner with Mitsukuni and me?"

How long had it been since she'd engaged in no-strings-attached fun, simply for the sake of it? She nodded while beaming upward at him. "What are we having?"

"Well... He's been talking about trying to recreate your curry for weeks now. And I'm not eating it if he cooks it unsupervised..."

An eruption of hearty laughter ensued. "Alright then. Let's go make some curry!"

.

Waiting a moment for the passing glare of the setting sun, he hung over the side of the waiting town car's door. If he had the time right—and he always did—before long her evening walk would be over. Within seconds the small beauty appeared on the horizon. Surprisingly, she was not alone. Waiting for the two bodies to draw nearer, what he saw caused his heart to diminish. Keeping pace alongside her was the kind, chivalrous, and attractive Morinozuka, who seemed to have her laughing in the sort of way he hadn't seen in ages.

Sinking inside of the town car, he feebly shut the door, and addressed his driver. "Thanks for waiting. We can go now."

* * *

.

Chapter Eight!

I hope you've had a lovely weekend and that Monday treats you well. :)


	9. Chapter 9

The steady rush of water faded to the background as the stream increased in heat. Breathing in the vapor, he stared at the blurred droplets of water hanging from his eyelashes. For as long as he could remember, the shower had been a safe haven from the rest of the world. A space wherein real privacy was both a promise and an expectation, it was a place where neither his farsightedness nor his incessant mind very much mattered.

Leaning an arm against the tile, he went against his better judgment, unable to help but assess certain aspects of the day.

Haruhi, striding alongside Takashi. Radiant and casual, engaged in conversation. It would have been undeniable even to passersby that they looked good next to each other.

_I'm not so far off as to imagine there's something between them. She's not like that, and he's got too much honor in him to even attempt such a thing. But how she laughed... How long has it been since I've been able to make her really smile?_

Dinner with his father had been... Interesting. Ever the business man, Yoshio had remained stoic in gait and manner, though his words betrayed a willingness to bend the generations-strong mold in other ways. His efforts to engage in occasionally light-hearted or trival topics had not been lost on Kyoya. He wondered whether or not to suggest that his father make acquaintances with Tamaki's grandmother. Still, another moment trumped his father's behavior during dinner.

.

"_Your sister hosted us right before this trip."_

"_How is Fuyuumi? And Shido."_

"_Rather well, I presume. They're expecting a child."_

_Looking up from his plate, Kyoya did not bother suppressing his smile, which he was surprised to see his father return._

"_She was sorry for having not been able to tell you in person, but I imagine the two of you will have plenty to talk about when she gives you her next phone call."_

"_I imagine so."_

.

Thrilled for his sister, the only consistent person he'd had for his entire life, Kyoya immediately promised himself that his devotion to her child would not be as an elder Ootori, but simply as the kind of uncle he imaged any child deserved.

Before he realized it, he'd begun to imagine Haruhi as she might appear with child. Such a faraway notion, yet the vision was as clear as anything rooted in reality. But no—what good could come from humoring such personal and detailed fantasies?

Exhaling, he enclosed a hand around himself, choosing to conjure happier times, instead. Breathing, pumping, Haruhi's shy grin pulled to the front of his mind. Fingertips trailing the length of his back, her face tucked close to his chest as if he were in some way shielding her from all the ugliness to be found in the world. Before long, senses began crashing upon the realization that his body was refusing to keep in time with his mind. Clearing everything from his head, he tried again, only to meet with failure for a second time.

"Come on, dammit!"

Left feeling fouled and unsated by his own body, Kyoya retreated. Forehead against the tile, he placed his hands on his hips, only to be reminded of his previous outlet when run aground by strife. Running his fingers across the marred skin, he found it surprisingly easy to reconsider the past time. Eying the shaving blade sitting atop the bathroom counter, he made quick work of grabbing the tool before returning to the heat and discretion of the shower. Tending to the area, he became suddenly aware that real estate there was at a premium. Passing the small piece of metal from hand to hand, he contemplated where to go next.

_Quit messing with yourself, Ootori. Things have been worse than this and you've managed to pull it together. Quit feeling sorry for yourself._

Exasperated, he dropped one hand to his side. Unable to ignore the feeling of the shower-warmed metal resting against his thigh, Kyoya stood pondering, while one thought continually usurped all else: the contrast of metal versus skin beneath his fingertips felt satisfying. Even good.

_Is this really a pity-party so much as me looking for a release for the evening that's transpired? There doesn't have to be anything wrong with that. I do possess a certain level of control..._

Poising the razor inside his thigh, he remained careful of moving too far inward. There would be no need for a guilty pleasure to lead to bigger problems, after all. Steadying his hand, he inhaled deeply while preparing for the impending release. Seconds passed, all the while, the edge of the razor refused to violate the skin beneath it. Despite having little to no mental reservations, it appeared that innate reflexes had chosen to take the lead on this one. Sighing, Kyoya was forced to ask himself who he was to argue.

Hardly a second had passed from the instant he'd come to his senses, to his being startled by a loud knock at the bathroom door. Pain seared through his body while Tamaki's familiar voice inquired on the other side of the door. The red warmth passing through his fingers did not provide the same contentment he was so eager to remember.

"Dammit!" Working to balance his voice, he called out for Tamaki to make himself at home, preferably somewhere away from the bathroom while he finished up. Heart pulsing wild, he watched the consistent stream of blood begin to circle the drain.

_How bad is it? What have I done?_

Throwing down the razor, he fingered the incision while attempting to calm his mind long enough to assess the damage.

_Okay... This is manageable. It just seems like so much more after being diluted in the water..._

Turning off the water, he immediately reached for his glasses while holding the towel in place. Looking around, he became painfully aware of how the bathroom's provisions were lacking most basic first aid standards. He let out a quiet groan, and decided to improvise with a thick layer of strategically placed tissue. The bleeding had seemingly slowed enough to humor his friend's company, if only for a short while. Throwing on his khakis, he made haste for the living room.

Searching around, Tamaki's location had been revealed by the dim trail of the refrigerator light. Taking advantage of their positions, Kyoya casually strode toward an armchair which sat just isolated enough from the couch to give him some peace of mind. Sitting carefully, he nodded toward the blond, who tossed him a bottle of water while finding a seat of his own.

"Sorry to just walk in so late, but I figured you wouldn't mind, considering you gave me a key and all."

"Fair enough. Remind me why I gave you that, again?"

Laughing, Tamaki shrugged. "I don't know. You were kind of being funny at the time and mentioned in case of emergencies."

"Indeed..." _I have become the butt of my own jokes and irony. Fantastic._" So, what's up?"

"With me? Not too much. But I heard that you went out with your father tonight, so I just thought I'd see how that went."

"It was fine. You'd be as surprised as I am, but he basically just wanted to drop in while he was in town.

Asked how I was doing, and didn't even mention business once."

"That was your father?"

"Yeah. I know. And Fuyuumi is pregnant."

The last piece of information was enough to send Tamaki nearly into delighted tears. Ever since the early days of his and Kyoya's friendship, Fuyuumi had been his biggest cheerleader in getting to know her younger brother. She had always found it rather amusing that Kyoya believed Tamaki's uncanny times of arrival were nothing more than his sheer misfortune.

"Kyoya! I'm going to be an uncle! And so are you!"

_Oh, Tamaki. You really are the best kind of idiot._ "Congratulations?"

"And congratulations to you!"

"Thanks."

"Does Haruhi know, yet?"

"Unless she was just able to hear you: no."

Allowing his joy to taper off, Tamaki was again reminded of one of the reasons he had come for a visit in the first place.

"Oh. Well, I'm sure she'll be happy whenever you do tell her."

"I'm sure."

Not wanting to seem conspicuous in looking down, Kyoya silently assessed the level of pain in his thigh. Feeling secure enough that the situation was under control, he decided to prod Tamaki for info.

"Does she seem different lately, to you?"

Meeting his friend in the eye, Tamaki felt himself deflate, as he had hoped that Haruhi's pensiveness had ultimately been a passing mood; something their proximity had allowed him to be privy to.

"I'm not sure. Is everything okay?"

"I think so. I don't know. I almost feel like she's avoiding me."

"Really?"

"Has she said anything to you?"

"Not really. Unless the group of us are up to something, she more or less spends most of her time in her room. It's my being loud and coming over that eventually draws her out. Or she goes on walks."

"Yeah."

"I know she felt kind of bad about not going with you tonight, though."

"Did she seem like she wanted to go?"

Tamaki shrugged, feeling himself growing tired of answering Kyoya's inquiries on Haruhi. Having long since reconciled that the two people closest to him were in a relationship, there was still a hidden sting that he was not so easily rid of. Still, Kyoya was in the midst of a noticeably ill disposition this evening, and Tamaki knew he'd do what he could to ease it.

"I couldn't really tell. She didn't like disappointing you, though. She's not mad at you or anything, is she? Or did you forget to apologize for something?"

Shifting in his chair, Kyoya tilted his head and threw him a knowing look. "I hope not... I don't recall doing anything to warrant Haruhi's wrath... Besides. If I'd done something _that_ stupid, she'd probably just come right out and tell me."

Tamaki shuddered, recalling his botched attempt at cleaning Misuzu's pension. "Yeah, you're right about that... Well, did you try asking Haruhi what's bothering her?"

"Yes. And no. She's been backing off ever since school began, which was what? Nearly three months ago at this point. I stopped asking when she kept saying she was fine, just busy."

"Maybe what she needs is for you to back off a little bit more."

"And how do you figure that?" Remaining glued to his chair, Kyoya crossed his arms in challenge, though he admittedly knew better than anyone that with Tamaki, there was no threat.

Combing over his thoughts, Tamaki assessed his friend, ultimately deciding to give his observations straight. It was his hope that doing so would not only enlighten Kyoya for the sake of his relationship, but also serve to drain his own emotional cache of the misery which he'd allow to fester upon false hopes and obsessions for far, too long.

"Well, the two of you practically lived together all summer."

"Did that bother you?"

He watched Kyoya in earnest, surprised to see his stilted readjustment within his seat. "Maybe at the time, but it doesn't anymore. It's fine, but that's not the point."

"So what is the point?"

"Didn't you ever feel overwhelmed by constantly being together?"

"Not especially. Look, Tamaki. Why not say what you want to say, instead of strategically asking questions until I stumble onto whatever you're keeping as some sort of epiphany?"

"Fine, then. I think you've totally invested yourself into you and Haruhi, to the point that you can't see that she might feel like she's in over her head."

Tilting his gaze downward, he removed his glasses, deciding that his evening's internal stores were fast coming to an end. Mulling over Tamaki's words, he remained silent.

"Look, Kyo. I know you make her happy. You do. But imagine what it might feel like to be Haruhi, right now. She cares about you to the point where she—Level-Headed-and-Blunt-to-A-Fault Haruhi—has started making brash, all-in sorts of decisions. I know you didn't ask her to, but it's like she's trying to find ways to be brave for the both of you. And that's a lot to do."

_Wow_. Meeting Tamaki's eye, he found himself swept up by a fierce combination of guilt and admiration for his friend's not oft seen ability to tell things as they were. "Tamaki..."

"What?"

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Pluck that blond head of yours out of the clouds long enough to present people with pieces of truth, before taking flight again..." Managing a grin, Kyoya shook his head incredulously as the two of them started to laugh.

"It's one of my many gifts, you know."

"Listen, Tamaki. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. But out of curiosity... What for?"

_Of course you're going to make me elaborate._ "For being inconsiderate of your feelings. For putting you on the spot. It's very possible that I've been a shitty best friend."

Tamaki smiled appreciatively. "Thank you. And quit being so hard on yourself. You're not a shitty anything, let alone best friend."

Nodding, he let out a tired sigh. "Thanks. At least I'll be able to end this day on a bit of a positive note. I think I'm going to shove off for now, though."

Agreeing that it was getting late, Tamaki dismissed the fact that he was the only one to stand up as Kyoya declared the day to be over. Bidding him goodnight, he made his exit alone.

Watching as the door clicked shut, he waited several moments before deciding to move.

"_I know you make her happy. You do. But imagine what it might feel like to be Haruhi, right now."_

_I'm not sure if I should be encouraged by his first observation, or disenchanted by the second... Probably both._

Removing his hands from his lap, a subtle patch of crimson had begun to make its way past the layer of tissue and onto his khakis. Sighing in shame, addressing the issue was becoming exceedingly inevitable.

_I never forced her to do anything. Then, I never had to... At what point did I know she was the sort of person who would always be there for us? For _me_?_

Standing up, he was unprepared for the wave of sickness rising to meet him. Catching himself on the side of the chair, there came a sudden rush of color and heat, as blood made its way down the leg of his pants. Feeling around his pockets, he felt stuck in place upon realizing the phone sat on a counter, across the room.

One hand clutching the chair, the other rubbed the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes, he worked to slow his breathing and recover whatever clarity the situation had stolen. Any semblance of calm that had been regained was wiped clear upon the abrupt opening of the front door.

* * *

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Chapter Nine! Sorry, that seemed to have taken quite a while. I hope it finds you well. :)

This chapter found me listening to The Editors' song "Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors" quite a bit. It's a good one.

Thanks for reading, and have an awesome weekend!


	10. Chapter 10

What had started out as a mediocre and upsetting day had ended in ultimatums and humiliation.

Explain everything to a bewildered Tamaki, or tell him there was an accident? He took to the floor before gravity had its chance to force him down.

"_Before you came by, I did something stupid."_

"_I can see that! How long has this been going on?"_

"_This is the first in a long time." Kyoya gave a short laugh, "Actually, I stopped shortly after we became friends."_

"Is there anything to stop the bleeding?"

"_Tissue..."_

Did he want his father to come to the apartment or meet them at the hospital?

"_Forget it." Tamaki decided, "We'll call him on the way there."_

Would he prefer to tell Haruhi everything tonight, or after their plane touched down in Japan?

_Taking his glasses off, Kyoya walked past the late night chatter of the nurses' station, allowing his father to lead the way._

_._

Avoiding the obnoxious bustle, awkward silence, and derision to be had via public transportation, Yoshio hired a private plane to bring them home. In Kyoya's opinion, having two inconveniences was at least better than three.

Sitting alongside his father, he occasionally glanced at the older man from the corner of his eye. What he found seemed akin to a disquieting sense of paternal guilt and shame. Having laid everything on the table while still at the hospital, he imagined the two of them to be in for an altogether silent journey home. His thoughts were burdened by the impending days and weeks to come. For now, he had distanced all notions of the long term to the back of his mind.

What would he say upon his early return to Ouran?

"America was nice for a while, but the academics weren't exactly a challenge, and I'm actually starting on a new endeavor for my father. I'm sorry, no, I'm not at privilege to say."

What would he do? With most of the people he cared about remaining in Boston, this was the part he had yet to figure out.

.

_It was close to midnight by the time he knocked at her door. Respectfully allowing him to proceed alone, his father had notified him that he would wait at his apartment, and to take all the time he would need._

_Answering the door, the remnants of inconsistent sleep stood out across Haruhi's face._

"_Sorry to be so late. May I come in?"_

_She nodded, moving to the side. "Yeah. Always. What's up?"_

_Wrapping her within his arms, the sense of urgency within the embrace had not passed her by. She nestled further into him, looking to be comforted as much as she sought to bring comfort._

"_What is it? What's wrong?"_

_Still holding on, he spoke into her ear. "I'm so sorry, Haruhi."_

"_Why?"_

_It all seemed too tiresome and trite to go through the evening's events yet again. He shook his head while searching for the proper words._

"_That problem I used to have—Maybe I should have gotten the right kind of help back then." The grip on his shirt tightened. Her muscles contracted as he brought her close. He was flooded by shame._

"_You've been cutting yourself?"_

"_Just once, tonight." _That has to be the most pathetic thing I have ever said._ "I'd changed my mind, but slipped at the last minute, and it was... It was pretty bad."_

_Gently pulling away, a palpable sense of worry draped over her, as she inspected him head to toe. "And then what happened? Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah. To summarize a humiliating story: Tamaki walked in on me, my father knows, and I just got back from the hospital."_

_Nodding slowly, she looked him in the eye, trying to realize the layers of implications the experience must have had on her proud, self-reliant, genius boyfriend. "Alright. So what do we do, now?"_

_Simultaneously, he looked down whilst reaching for her hands. Small, porcelain hands that knew more about independence and hard work than he felt he had experienced in the whole of his life. "_We _don't do anything. You stay here, and finish your year abroad. And I go back to Japan. My father seems to think it's best."_

"_I can understand that."_

_Nodding, his next words were barely audible. "And for now... I think it might better if we were to break up." Muscle-tensed porcelain came loose in his hands._

"_Is that also what you're father thinks is best?"_

"_No. It's really none of his business. But I think it might good for both of us."_

"_Good? How can that be good?"_

"_I messed up pretty bad, Haruhi. It's my fault, and you don't deserve to have to deal with that."_

"_You don't get to tell me what I deserve!"_

"_Fine. But I deserve to feel like I'm worth standing next to. And to be honest, it's been a while since I've felt that way."_

_Opening her mouth to speak, she fell silent, instead. _This is my fault for not saying anything. I should have encouraged him to admit his past cutting, last year. And now I've been holding him off instead of talking with him... He told me about his cutting, and I did nothing.

"_Haruhi, stop."_

"_I'm so sorry, Kyoya. I'm so, so sorry."_

"_Don't make a habit of apologizing when you've got nothing to be sorry for." Pulling near again, he sighed into her hair. "Just do good things for yourself while I'm gone. And you'll be home soon, too."_

"_But you want to break up. So I come home. What then?"_

_There seemed so little left to say, and none of it seemed in any way to suffice. He shrugged. "I love you, Haruhi. But right now you don't have a boyfriend. You don't owe me an-"_

.

His thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of his father's throat. "I'm not mad at you, Kyoya. I'm only sorry that my behavior led you to believe acting out like this at any point in your life would be a possibility."

Kyoya only nodded, as he neither had any energy, nor coherent words left within him.

.

Folding down the corner of the page, Haruhi closed her book and stared toward the November sky. Setting the book on the bench, she allowed the contents of the story to sink in, whilst imagining if any of the park's passersby could ever find themselves in as horrible a state of grief as that of the family within this tale.

_Overzealously nailing his mother's coffin shut, until he managed to drill her right in the face... William Faulkner, I think you must have been a very upset man._

In the weeks since Kyoya's departure, much of Boston's foliage had succumbed to the elements. Trees moved away from blazing reds and sienna, leaving behind airborne brambles and ashy notions of their previous autumnal furnace.

Noting the time via the setting sun, she picked up her book and started back toward the apartment. Tightening the scarf around her neck, she found that as a whole, the cold was something to be overall appreciated. Clearing the sidewalks for the more weather-hardy of souls, the space automatically became all at once more open, though still intimate and discreet. Clouds of breath and the frosted tickle within her lungs proved invaluable on the days she needed reminding that she was indeed, still alive.

_Next week will be a month without Kyoya here. Has it already been that long?_

Moving closer to the curb, she made room for an oncoming couple, who nodded appreciatively toward her while nestling further into one another.

_He broke up with me. It's not like I was planning for the rest of my life or anything, but at the same time, I always imagined he'd be here. I spent fifteen years without a boyfriend. Why should not having one make any difference, now?_

Remembering back, it had taken the observations of six boys to clue her into the fact that she had turned down Arai not once, but twice. A nice boy, and a good friend. How many other instances had there been?

_Because I don't care so much about having a boyfriend. I care about not having Kyoya, though..._

Drawing closer to her building, the sky had begun to darken. Sparse, lazy flakes of snow greeted Haruhi upon her arrival. It seemed a shame to come indoors at such a time. Alas, she did not feel like causing her homework and over eager friends to wait.

Trekking up the stairs, she began to pick up the pace upon noticing a small parcel lying in front of her door. Smiling eagerly, part of her wondered if it was still too soon to be feeling such elation. Not bothering to wait until going inside, she opened the small package carefully, the contents of which lay hidden beneath a neatly penned letter.

Haruhi,

To say I've been kept busy might be an understatement, but it's still no excuse for having not kept in better contact with you. I hope you've been well, and trust that the rest of the group is keeping your hands full.

I'm back at Ouran, although the atmosphere is far more lacking than it had been, previously. I suppose that was to be expected, though. Perhaps I'll inquire into dual enrolling for my last semester.

You may have already noticed its absence, but if not: one of your shirts is missing. You left the striped pink one at my place, and I'm hoping you'll forgive my taking it with me. I'll send it back, if need be. Or if you like, I've offered an exchange, and sent along that black button-down of mine you seem to enjoy so much.

Take care of yourself, Haruhi (that idiot of ours, too). I miss you.

Kyoya.

Gripping the shirt in one hand, she opened the door and stepped inside. The day had been tediously long, and nothing sounded better than getting changed and retreating to an early bedtime.

* * *

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.

Greetings and Salutations!

I'm excited to be done with school for a few weeks, and ergo able to post another chapter a bit sooner than expected. I hope you enjoy it, and that it finds you well!

Oh, and the book that Haruhi is reading is As I Lay Dying, by William Faulkner. It's an interesting one.

Take Care!


	11. Chapter 11

"I'm sure my father is paying you well to sit here, so you'll have to forgive me if I have any doubts of this staying strictly between the two of us. But very well, I'll answer your questions.

"He may be making up for it now, and I appreciate it, but my father's brand of attention while growing up turned things somewhat hellacious for me. It wasn't overnight, but it seems like over a short period of time, I went from the precocious, youngest son, to The. Third. Son. I've always been well educated, and knew to do well, sure. After a certain point, however, it became clear that performing superior to my classmates would never be enough. Did I know their class rank? Was I discreetly trumping or complimenting their strengths while lying in wait on their weaknesses? Did I know who their fathers were? Have my brothers already accomplished the same?

"I wasn't supposed to end up real friends with Tamaki, you know. If that's not a testament to the guy's charm, I don't know what is. I owe a lot to Tamaki, actually. He's the one who put it into my head that I deserve more. As an Ootori, I realized that in theory I'm capable of excelling at anything. But that my place in life would allow me the opportunity to pursue those abilities? Not so much. It was sort of an epiphany, although it took a while for the idea to get at me. I mean, for a while there, I actually based my self-worth not on my successes—certainly not on my personhood—but on the level of tutelage I showed my father. And I determined that by his reactions to my accomplishments, which for the most part were stoic, at best.

"I won't blame my cutting on my father—that's on me. But I will say that he and my brothers definitely inspired my penchant for walking into undeserved punishment. I already knew it, though. Perhaps they're the ones I really felt sorry for, on account that they couldn't see any of it.

"Things are getting better with my father. He'll always be who he is, but some airs have changed for the better, and I'll take it.

"I have to wonder, however... If Tamaki weren't so hellbent on creating his little family... He really understood who I was. But if he hadn't bothered to pursue our friendship, would I have been able to come this far? Being part of the host club, telling my father how I really feel about things, buying out one of the man's companies?

"I know I screwed up big with that night's cutting. But I'd had it under control for so long. Tamaki was the one who convinced me to stop, and he didn't even know it. Blissful idiot that he is, of course he was there a second time. He's the one who found me standing there, just bleeding away.

"We've since reconciled all of it, but it's all enough to make me feel guilty for having pursued our friend, Haruhi... Almost. I want Tamaki's happiness just as much as he does. He's more a brother to me than my own have ever been. But what am I supposed to do with that essential, unignorable feeling that she belongs with me? I dismiss that, and it's like catering my life away, all over again. He might not like it, but I know Tamaki understands that.

"No. Today I'd rather not discuss Haruhi. I broke up with her the night before coming home. I hate it, but ultimately, I wasn't about to leave her wondering whether or not she honestly wanted to stay with a broken man whose been forced back to the other side of the world by his father... We've been keeping in touch, yes, but I'm uncertain as to where we stand at the moment. I mailed her a package recently, so I'll just have to see how that goes."

.

Glancing around in the dark, she fumbled around for light switches on her way to the front door. She dared not imagine what brand of urgency had brought someone knocking in the very dregs of the morning hours.

_But wait... Is that multiple people knocking?_

Apprehension gave way upon the muffled sound of familiar voices on the other side of the threshold. Not waiting a moment longer, she threw open the door.

_What?_

"Haru-Chan!"

Brandishing her with a standard cheery greeting, the real question no longer concerned their presence, but why it was that the older boy now sat atop none other than Tamaki's shoulders.

"What are you two doing here? And how is it that Tamaki has replaced Takashi?"

Looking the tired Haruhi up and down, Tamaki now did his best not to consider the present condition of every host clubber's favorite girl. Standing propped against one hand in the doorway, she used the other to pull sleep-mussed hair away from her eyes. Never one to reveal too much skin, even during sleep, her pajama top consisted of a man's black button-down shirt.

_Well... I guess that's what I get for rousing her at four in the morning. It's not Haruhi's fault she misses him so much. But... Are those Kyoya's boxers?!_

Pulling his thoughts together, Tamaki grinned wide, "Happy Thanksgiving, Haruhi!"

"You guys. Just because it's Thanksgiving break doesn't mean it's already Thanksgiving. And it's still a strictly American holiday."

"Indeed, Haruhi! But you must have heard the phrase, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do!'"

"Yeah. That seems to ring a bell or two... But that doesn't explain what you're doing here, now."

"Pack a bag, Haru-Chan! We're going to New York City to see the big parade, tomorrow! Takashi wasn't going to be responsible for waking you so early, so Tama-Chan and I came, instead."

Tired as she was, Haruhi was still lucid enough to question how these two managed to summon such persistent energy. Inviting them in while she got ready, she became certain that theirs was a brand of tireless resilience that not many people would ever bear witness to in their lives.

_It's just not natural... I like it, though. New York, huh? This should be an interesting couple of days._

.

Taking one last look at the enormous, flying beagle, the group decided to make room at the partition for younger parade-goers, and began to pull away. Breaking down into pairs, they slowly began to snake their way through the crowd, with Tamaki and Haruhi bringing up the rear. Gazing happily at the marbled azure and cotton sky, it was clear to anybody who looked on him that Tamaki was full of elation and satisfaction.

"See, Haruhi? Aren't you glad we've taken this excursion? Now we can tell everyone we've properly seen New York City!"

She nodded, staring as Hello Kitty floated by. _Honestly, that cat is everywhere!_ "Yeah. You're right, Senpai. We saw some good things."

"Good? Just good? Haruhi! We visited the Met! We're at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade! Experienced some of the best French cuisine outside of France—we ate pancreas!"

"Yeah... Don't remind me about that part." She gave a short laugh. "Honestly, though, it's been great, Tamaki. It really was a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"You just wish Kyoya could have been here for it, too."

"And so do you."

Nodding, he wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulder. Pulling his thoughts and recollections together, images passed by one another, as he was reminded yet again of Kyoya's absence.

_No. I can be happy knowing he's getting help right now. The contrast between that paleness on his face and the red on his pants—on his hands... If he does this now, then by fall we'll be at Ouran University together. And we can always visit New York another time._

Unsure where his demeanor was headed, Haruhi was uncertain as to whether or not she wanted to welcome the quiet. "What's on your mind, Senpai?"

"I was just thinking. It was roughly a year ago that you actually started sitting with Kyoya at his table in the club room."

_Whoa. Okay._ "What about it?"

"It didn't seem like much, at first. You've always split your time between all of us in one way or another. But it still seemed different, and then you kept going back nearly every day. I don't know exactly when you and Kyoya started dating, and I realize that it's really none of my business. But I also know that not long after you started singling him out, he always seemed a bit happier, or content in some way."

Heart thudding in her chest, it felt altogether odd to Haruhi that they should be having this conversation. Remaining quiet, she gestured for Tamaki to go on.

"When you get right down to it, Haruhi, a year is so fleeting in the grand scheme of things, don't you think?"

"I suppose. That doesn't make it any less significant, Senpai."

"It absolutely doesn't! So please, don't take for granted whatever it is you or Kyoya might be feeling. Before any of this started, he was in the middle of making big plans for himself, which we all know about the buyout at this point... But I think his plans or intentions might have expanded after you came along."

"I see."

"I hope so, Haruhi. As far as Kyoya is concerned, I think he's made up his mind about some important things. I think you realize he's not one to play around for the sake of it, so maybe you can also see that he wouldn't have come all the way to America for you unless he could see something much more beyond it. Ask any of us; you seem to have a special way of allowing the guy to flourish. I realize it's unfair, and please don't be too angry with me for saying this. Please, Haruhi, don't stay involved with him if you can't see something bigger there, too."

_Wow. It's not difficult to see where he's coming from... He cares about both of us, and I guess in a way he got caught up in a place he never asked to be. Still._

"You're right, Senpai. It isn't any of your business to tell me such things. I can appreciate how much you care, but what good would it do to ask me to assess and act on what my feelings for Kyoya might be somewhere far down the road?"

"Haruhi, I'm-"

"No, I'm talking now. It's that sort of pressure that can jeopardize love in the first place. I know I've come across as strange and fickle lately, but that's no indication that I don't return—why are you laughing?!"

"You should try talking to Kyoya like that, Haruhi! Maybe you have him on a pedestal, or think he's a bit fragile after certain mistakes. I don't know. But he can handle it. Especially if it's that kind of honesty coming from you." Imagining Haruhi, who herself could at times be a small rendition of fury, giving it to Kyoya only made him laugh even harder. _Honestly, from time to time he probably needs it._

She glared at him incredulously before removing his arm from her shoulder, holding it as though it were parasitic in nature. Trying to balance the current of emotions Tamaki had managed to stir within her, Haruhi wiped away a few stray, angry tears before half-heartedly throwing a punch. Laughing quietly beside him, she spoke under her breath.

"I should tell Kyoya that you made me cry."

Grinning, he pat her on the head. "Please don't. Not anytime soon, anyway. I'd at least like to find the love of my own life before Kyoya ever has reason to kill me..."

* * *

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Happy Monday, All!


	12. Chapter 12

"Tell you about Haruhi? Well, I've already explained the details of everyone as members of the host club, so it might sound overly cliché for me to say that I knew she was a girl right from the beginning. Although, saying so would still be true. She was the bright, new, honor student. A commoner, no less. By my father's standards, her unique situation was enough to require my attention.

"Gender aside, it didn't take much to realize she was an entirely different creature. Unaffected enough to call out Tamaki. Empathetic toward the twins. She was a good sport after breaking that vase, even if it was clear she wasn't all that impressed, at first. And admittedly, it was rather fun spending that first day watching the others figure her out. I'd like to think I would have recognized her as a young woman, even if I hadn't known better. The most effeminate of boys couldn't carry a gait like hers. The truth of the matter is that Haruhi is all girl.

"The novelty of her presence might have been the beginning of it, but it didn't take long for each of us to latch onto her. Huni and Mori were already pretty solid, but as for everyone else... I think we all needed a friend like Haruhi. And, she simply fit in.

"No, there was no defining moment where I realized I was in love with her. Not before kissing her, anyway—Hadn't I kissed anyone else, before?—Well, sure. She might not look like it, but Ayame, my class' vice president, is a rather skilled kisser. There was also this girl who at one point had caught my father's attention. Not for himself, mind you, but a potential match for me. She was pretty, but I'd be putting it lightly in referring to her as a cold little minx. Ultimately, I ended up being more disinterested than the rest of them.

"Anyway, you asked me about Haruhi. I can't imagine I was sending her any signals suggesting that I had feelings for her; which by that point, I did. Eventually, her company became something of a relief, though. I typically keep myself separate from certain types of club chaos. You could call it a certain sense of Ootori inhibition that gets put into you at a young age. She afforded me a different sense of inclusion. Haruhi is talented enough to slip in and out of that chaos, but is never the cause of it. She does just as well in the thick of it, as she does standing and observing alongside of me. Which, of course, is where I preferred her to be.

"Given the proper circumstances, secrets can be entertaining, sure. Although, I suppose the secret about Haruhi being a girl is out. Which is fine. For a time, though, the notion felt too consequential for most of us to think about. Both for me privately, and the club as a whole, Haruhi became our purloined letter. And I'm still not fond of the thought of sharing her."

.

A barrage of knocking came not long after she had pocketed her phone. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she quickly opened the door for the sake of still-sleeping neighbors.

_Better hurry before they think to start singing..._

"Happy Birthday, Haruhi!"

With a genuine smile, she walked straight into the two-person hug that accompanied their unison birthday greeting.

"Thanks, guys. It's rare to see you this chipper so early in the morning... You better not have anything obnoxious planned."

Allowing herself to be linked to a Hitachiin at each arm, they threw her innocent, unknowing smiles while feigning insult to their integrity at her accusastions. Collecting Tamaki on their way out of the building, they set out for the brisk morning trek toward school.

"Seventeen is such an exciting year, Haruhi! Don't you think?"

"I couldn't tell you, Senpai. Mine has only just begun." _Although I'd have to say it's not off to a bad start..._

"Allow me to enlighten you, my dear birthday girl!" Tamaki's excitement was nearly visible in the cool puff of breath he expelled into the early February air. "You see, Haruhi, legally speaking, nothing exciting happens at seventeen."

"Go on."

"So in a way, seventeen kind of flies under the radar. But it's such a big step in maturation and exploration! And just think of everything you've experienced and accomplished in the past sixteen years. Seventeen will surely be even better!"

"Wow, Tono. I'm loving the positive outlook." Hikaru drawled while he and Kaoru each slid an arm around Tamaki's shoulders.

"But what we mean to say is," Kaoru continued, "That's a lot of pressure to place on top of the next three-hundred and sixty-five days."

"Alright then. I can see your point. Let's just help Haruhi to have an exceptional day!"

Interjecting herself into the conversation, Haruhi wondered whether or not to share that an early morning phone call had already secured the overall status of her entire day. _Even if he didn't actually wish me 'happy birthday'._

"That sounds good, you guys."

"And no worries." Tamaki promised, "In light of your special day, we've decided to spare you all embarrassing surprises at school. Provided, of course, you allow us to treat you as we see fit right around dinner time."

_Dinner time? Food on par with their natural tastes?_ "Deal."

The remainder of their walk was dominated by chilled sunshine and idle chatter. It was in the middle of Haruhi's explanation as to why she preferred their American school's dress code to Ouran's, that she and the twins rounded the corner toward their homeroom. It was only upon entering the classroom that she found herself rendered speechless, as she set sight upon the floral arrangement that taken over her desk.

Similar expressions adorned the faces of Hikaru and Kaoru, thereby eliminating them from her already short list of floral benefactors. Walking toward her desk, several students smiled enviously at her while clearing the way. Delicately aromatic, the arrangement sweetly intensified as she rustled the stalks while reaching for an embedded envelope. The contents of the ivory envelope, which lay hidden amongst a palette of lavender, white, and quiet pink, only served to broaden her smile.

**Haruhi,**

**Orchids for beauty, Peonies for healing, Gladiolus for strength of character. Happy Birthday.**

**Kyoya.**

_._

Adjusting the lamp, he settled back into the chair and tended to the project at hand. Fiddling around with the delicate components of the plastic organ, he leaned in to better view the finer details whilst sliding pieces together, before leisurely taking it all apart again.

_Interesting how the condition of a vital organ can be determined by both physical and mental well-being. I wonder what mine looks like..._

There came a dampening of concentration as the lilt and strings of a specific ring tone began to fill the air, prompting him to hit the speaker button immediately.

"Good Morning, Haruhi. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hey. I just felt like talking to you. What are you up to?"

"Right now? Not much. Just noticing how the tricuspid valve seems really to be the underdog of the heart's four major arteries. I don't think it gets nearly as much attention as it should..."

_I'm glad he's actually doing something that interests him. That involved tone in his voice sounds so much better when its filled with curiosity and not apathy. _"I see. When you put it that way, that tricuspid sounds captivating."

"If you're truly interested, I can order you a model, too. Then we can examine matters of the heart together."

"Hmm. We'll see."

"Fair enough. We can explore other aspects of anatomy, if you like."

"Kyoya?"

"Haruhi?"

"There actually is a reason I called so early."

"I see. And here I thought you just wanted to hear the sound of my voice."

"I do. I always do."

Her sentiment was tinged with morose and the distance separating them. The events influencing those factors stuck themselves to the front of his mind. Setting the plastic pieces of heart aside, he clicked the phone off of speaker and walked toward his bed.

"I really am sorry, Haruhi."

"You didn't do anything wrong. Not exactly, anyway."

"Not exactly, huh?"

"Accident or not, it was stupid for you to cut yourself, Kyoya."

_Finally, someone actually has the nerve to say it. Months of letters, phone calls, and video chats; and there it is. Please don't traipse around me, Haruhi..._ "I know."

"It was even more stupid for me to have not pressed the issue with you in the first place. You're amazing, you know. Intrinsic, caring, and normally full of all sorts of self control. But even if you hadn't cut yourself, and you'd left it all behind you years ago, that's not to say you didn't need someone to help you sort issues out, anyway. I didn't encourage you. There were so many times that I didn't even try to talk to you."

"I did that, too, you know."

"True. But you still did your best to meet me more than halfway."

"So would you care to explain what went wrong, now?"

It was a level of honesty she had never needed to verbalize, before. Words that had run routinely through her mind now fought their way toward the back of her throat, and she let out a nervous laugh, instead.

_Come on, Haruhi. Otaku girls at the club have a better time explaining themselves than you do, right now._ "Do you remember that first time you gave me a ride home? How you asked me why it was I started sitting by you, and if there was something I might need?"

"Yes."

"And I told you that no, I didn't need anything. It was just what I wanted. Well, maybe I did need something."

"Oh?"

"I didn't need anything _from_ you, per se. But I had this feeling that you might not always be around. That you could be gone instantaneously. And I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you before that might happen. I know that doesn't make very much sense, but it was part of what pushed me to sit at that table, day after day."

"That's a rather interesting notion, Haruhi."

"But it didn't answer your question, exactly. I suppose that's my preface to saying that I'm pretty lousy at speaking up when something is honestly weighing on my mind. I've been doing it for so long that it's kind of a default setting at this point. You didn't do anything wrong to make me withdraw, Kyoya. If anything, you were doing everything absolutely right.

"Once we all got to Boston, you'd already turned a page. You found a balance between keeping time for yourself and time for me, on top of managing everything else. When you started opening up to me about personal things—family stuff, goals, ideas—it meant a lot to me. I know it's no small thing, and ironically, in a way it scared me. I didn't mean to come off as inconsistent, and I'm sorry for that. I think at the time, subconsciously I just realized that for me, you're _it_. And I've never done this before. I started asking myself how it is I could know these things. If we were going too fast, even though until I started analyzing, things felt right. Not overwhelming. I let myself get caught up, and for a while, it was like I forgot how to exist around you."

"Analyze all you want, Haruhi, but just remember to keep talking to me. You started keeping to yourself, and for all I could figure, on your end things were beginning to cool off."

"Not at all. I was more or less stuck in my own head. And that's my fault. I don't even know why it's taken me this long to tell all of this to you."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it at this point. You've told me now, haven't you?"

"Another thing. You said that we're broken up, but it certainly doesn't feel that way."

"No. I don't suppose it ever did, did it?"

"No."

"Like I said before. I messed up pretty bad. My father toted me back home, and now I'm seeing a therapist at least until I start college. Have I even mentioned that they diagnosed me as having clinical depression? It doesn't seem fair to make you deal with all of that."

"Maybe you should let me be the judge of what I will or won't deal with. Honestly, I'm not surprised to hear of your diagnosis. But you're bigger than that. And while I believe that people are responsible for their own happiness, I also get a really great sense of fulfillment when it happens that I make you smile. Are you going to take that away from me?"

"I have a question for you, Haruhi."

"I'm listening."

"Since the moment I broke up with you, have you ever honestly felt like you didn't have a boyfriend?"

_Now there's a loaded question with more than one honest answer..._ "Sometimes. Especially right after you went back to Japan. The entire situation kind of left me stunned, and there wasn't any way for me to even try and help you. Things felt better after you finally got in touch with all of us. Mailing me your clothes was definitely comforting, but also somewhat confusing. Now our schedules have left us with mostly sporadic opportunities for communication.

"On the one hand, it feels as though nothing has changed between us. But then, you _did _break up with me. I have to ask myself whether or not to press the subject, thinking that maybe you're the one who is benefiting from not currently being in a relationship. So while I'm left occasionally feeling alone, I can also say that it feels good to know that there was meaning to our relationship, and that I'm here if you'd like to be together again."

"I don't think I need to tell you that I never wanted to be apart. Who knows, though? Maybe we both got something out of it."

"Okay. So what, then?"

Sighing, another moment passed before he decided to speak. "Is it arrogant or too self-involved that I'm already fed up with nuances at the age of nineteen?"

"I guess that would depend on the nuance."

"It's just that I don't much care for calling you my girlfriend, Haruhi."

_He had best be going somewhere good with this..._ "No?"

"No, I don't. It's too soon to ask if you'll be my fiance, but 'girlfriend' seems too insignificant a word when you're just so much more to me. But I suppose it'll have to do for now."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's a cultural standard that I can cope with."

"Alright, then. So can I."

It was the first time in months either of them were able to experience a happy, companionable silence.

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Hi All!

I hope this chapter finds you well. Be safe if you're experiencing storms lately!


	13. Chapter 13

Tracing her finger along the cracked sidewalk, Haruhi sat along the edge of the lawn while movers packed away the remainder of her possessions. Nodding courteously, she offered thanks for their help while resisting the urge to stop them, in hopes of rifling through the boxes one last time. Reflecting upon the tangible evidence of her life in America, there was an element of surprise and self-discovery in how she regarded the items she would be bringing back to Japan.

Various projects and sentiments from classmates. Classic literature printed in English, and purchased from deliciously musty used book shops. Articles of clothing and vintage accessories showered onto her by the twins, who could not help but persuade her into outings on some of her loneliest and upset of days. Worrying less for the dried flowers and personal affects bestowed upon her by Kyoya, as they remained secure with her carryon luggage, she assured herself that in the end, it was all simply material, anyway.

Sighing, she glanced down the opposite end of the street, where the rest of the host club had trekked in search of their last meal together in Boston. She gave a start as a second body came to rest alongside hers, a familiar voice filling the air.

"Babysitting the moving company?"

"Takashi!" Regaining control of her startled heart, she smiled at him, "Stealthy."

He motioned toward the direction she had previously been considering, "Tamaki decided on Italian. Are you coming?"

"I am. I wanted to see the movers off, first."

"I'm pretty sure it'll all be waiting for you when we get back."

"I know… It's just that most of this stuff has never even seen Japan. Which has me feeling kind of protective of it."

"Ah."

"That seems odd, doesn't it?"

"Not really. Living in America for the past year kind of made this time into a world all its own. Not everything can follow us home. I'm a little disappointed in that, but it's time to go."

Quietly digesting his words, Haruhi promised herself that the manic upsets she had succumbed to were a thing of the past; childish reactions toward the decisions and words of other people. _Someone came into my life, and what he brought with him was grand. Then what did I do? Who _was_ that girl?_ _I could've been better. Kyoya deserves better. I need to keep myself in check. I can't expect others to do it for me, so I'll need to keep that under control. And I could care less about who Kyoya's father is, or what he thinks. His personality and influence cannot get to me like that again. Seriously, Haruhi, what kind of lawyer would you be… But I know things will fall back into place at home_. _No, it's a chance to be even better than before._

Refusing to spend the last of her hours Stateside in a contemplative stupor, she turned toward her friend in an effort to take the focus off of herself. "Takashi, what are you disappointed to not be bringing back with you?"

Taking his time to respond, Haruhi could feel that this particular silence was comprised of something unusual for him. Though his expression remained neutral, there came with it a hesitation that seemed almost palpable. "Can't really say. Everything about Boston has been good to me, but it's not a place I can keep up with."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "It's difficult to imagine you not being equipped to handle anything that comes your way."

"It's not so much about ability as it is choice. Some things need to be left here. Right now I'm just eager to see whatever is supposed to come after this."

"That's a good way to look at it."

"Yeah."

Content to enjoy their companionable silence, Haruhi gave a small grin upon sighting a disheveled mop of mousy brown, American hair. Recognizing the owner to be the captain of Boston University's kendo team, a senior named Ryan, Haruhi offered a friendly wave.

"We're about to have company."

"Ah…"

Pushing herself upward, she assured him that no one would eat before he made it to the restaurant, and walked away. Throwing a polite nod to the American boy, he returned it with a wave and a certain meekness that suggested he had not expected to be seen by so many people.

With a sense of respect that insisted she not turn around, Haruhi continued on her way.

_Maybe it is better to be going home sooner rather than later. I don't know if I could say it out loud, even to myself, but there is definitely something beneficial in having certain close connections. Like to the chairman of your school…_

Being a hardworking girl, there had been no doubt in Haruhi's mind that she could pass her American high school's final exams mid-semester if she had wanted to. What she could not have anticipated, however, was that the rest of her friends had been harboring similar feelings. Or that with a simple inquiry to his father, that Tamaki would find a way to make it happen, therein allowing himself to start his time at Ouran University alongside Kyoya, while Haruhi and the twins would see their third year in its entirety.

Smiling wide, Haruhi made haste for the restaurant.

_Merit, indeed._

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Straightening his posture and adjusting his tie, Yoshio considered himself in the full-length mirror, while a conservatively dressed beauty walked up behind him. Barely coming up to her husband's shoulder, Mina Ootori exuded a sense of intimate security and confidence that made her appear taller than most everyone with whom she shared a room. Traditional as she was in nature, she emanated a subtle warmth that caused others to favor her as the more accessible Ootori of the two; an asset that often worked to her husband's advantage. Without a word, she moved to straighten his suit jacket.

Gazing back at her in the mirror, Yoshio adjusted his glasses before sighing. "Did you see the smile on Kyoya's face before he left the house this morning? He looks like you, Mina, but I'm ashamed to admit that I've no idea the last time he's smiled that way."

Early spring had seized Japan, where the world had begun to busy itself with thawing, and the goings on of graduation were in full swing. In the still early morning hours, Yoshio and Mina had watched their youngest child depart for Ouran Academy in preparation for his own graduation ceremony, of which he was both valedictorian and unexpected guest. Having been the only member of the host club to return prematurely from his year abroad, Kyoya had employed every ounce of his intelligence and charm in order to ensure his classmates and familial connections that his homecoming was in the interest of academic advancement.

Not entirely removed from the truth, Kyoya had spent his final semester immersed in schoolwork, university textbooks, and visiting with his psychiatrist several times a week—an already odd excursion made even moreso by the recent inclusion of his parents during one of his sessions.

_ "I can appreciate how important having a supportive wife must be. I don't assume that having that kind of unconditional backing is an element of our lifestyle, so much as honoring your marital contract. And in part, I can see how being the head of our family required you to harden yourself to your children. But to have kept our mother from being closer and more personally aligned with us after a certain age is rather cold; tradition or otherwise."_

Recalling similar elements of his own childhood, Yoshio did his best to remember whether or not his own father's actions had left within him a comparable sting to that of his son. Alas, what he found instead was the memory of a competitive drive that grew exponentially over the years. Having no brothers of his own, Yoshio had been privy to a built-in sense of security that in abiding by his father's standards, a certain portion of the Eastern business world was largely his to inherit. Holding tight to tradition, he made his way through life understanding what was expected of him, and exceeding in everything before allowing himself the feeling of being sated.

"Did I do this to each of our boys?"

Slipping away from her husband's side, she addressed him from the mirror of a nearby vanity while removing the jewel-encrusted bracelet whose age and subtle elegance could all by itself tell the history of Japan. A twentieth anniversary gift from her in-laws, she placed it carefully into a jewelry box before choosing something comparably demure.

"I remember how upset you were to find out your fourth child would be a third son."

He sighed, "Only because of the implications it would have on the relationship between him and his brothers."

"Yoshio, if you want me to answer your question, you're going to have to be more specific."

Preparing to do as much, the older man found his words cut off as his wife continued to hold the floor, "Being the first born, at first you assumed Yuuichi would eventually become heir, and you treated him as such. In turn, he's spent most of his life not realizing there are alternative ways for fathers and sons to maintain a relationship. He seems mostly content about all of that. Likewise, Akito has always considered being the second son as a prescribed role, and for the most part he's molded himself to it rather well. Kyoya, on the other hand, is so much younger than his older brothers. Were it not for their achievements always being held over his head, he might as well have felt like an only child for most of his life. On the one hand, you've treated all three of them the same, in that you've set for them the type of standards that your own father set for you. But when considering 'how things work,' Kyoya was made to jump through hoops more out of familial obligation, and not because there could be much more than his brother's leftovers to gain."

Nodding slowing, Yoshio realized her words to be unabashedly true. "But then, that little boy started to grow up."

"Yes." Tears burgeoned on the edge of her eyes, "And I let you do with him the same thing you did with Yuuichi and Akito: eventually take away important years of his childhood and insist he simply start being a man. An impressive man, at that. It didn't take very long for you to recognize it, and for his brothers to view his talents and intelligence as a potential threat."

"Mina, I'm sorry."

Shaking her head fervently, she quickly wiped her eyes. "No. It may have been your way, but I obliged it, and deserve no apology. Not for Fuyuumi, either. Things work differently for us women, but she's as smart and strong as the best of them. If anything, I'm thankful that she was there to mother over Kyoya when I stepped back at your request."

Moving toward his wife, an undeniable force to be reckoned with both in and out of their home, Yoshio surrounded her in a loving and apologetic embrace.

Breathing in her husband's scent, Mina allowed herself to be enveloped, while asking herself how it was that up until recently, she had been the only member of their family to completely know this version of such a man.

"You know, perhaps we should be thankful that with four children and changing times, that nothing worse than this has happened to any of them."

"Maybe. One thing I'm having difficulty assessing is how despite having problems with how I've chosen to parent him, and regardless that his therapist's office would likely be the one place he could get away with showing aggression, he still managed to express himself with an excess of politeness and civility."

Mina shrugged, "Kyoya's busy reconciling, which doesn't leave him much room for unnecessary anger. So don't waste your time trying to pack years of parental introspection into such a small amount of time. Just do what you've been doing, and keep trying to be better. Also, you forget one very important thing."

"And what is that?"

"He knew you'd be expecting him to unload some kind of blame onto us, but he approached the matter with calm, instead. Kyoya knows better than most people how to simultaneously be gracious and methodical, because he is _your_ son. Just because he wants to choose his own path doesn't mean he can't recognize that you've got your strong points, too."

Smiling at her husband, Mina picked a pair of gloves up from the vanity and headed toward the door, insinuating that it was time to go.

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Marble halls filled to capacity immediately following Ouran Academy's graduation ceremony; the dam of bodies eventually giving way to the ebb and flow of the slightly more familial side of Tokyo's high society. The genteel manner in which mothers boosted the names of their children onto other mothers remained, as always, an even mix of authentic pride bred with the desire to convince other adults of their family's prowess in what was inevitably a never ending game of business and vanity.

Having temporarily lost sight of his parents, Kyoya found himself stuck between a third-story window and a hard place, as one of his father's business associates caught sight of the youngest Ootori, and insisted on giving his congratulations, amongst other things.

"Your sentiment is appreciated, Kurosawa-sama. Thank you! But my father has already granted me his blessing in pursuing a more hands-on approach to medicine."

"Indeed, Kyoya, but you are still so young!"

_And you, sir, are incredibly absurd and perhaps hard of hearing... Unbelievable._ Granting the elder man the bulk of his attention, Kyoya allowed himself a moment to scan the crowd, politely nodding to acquaintances, all the while hoping Kurosawa would take the hint and stop monopolizing his time. _Eight weeks until Haruhi and the others get home… I can't believe it, but right now I'd actually take the company of Kuze over this._

"But be honest, Kyoya. I've been watching you for years now—several of your father's associates have. And many acknowledge your immense potential to thrive in, and possibly even change business. With all you're capable of, and all you've done thus far, do you really think you'll be satisfied simply being a doctor?"

Preparing to politely bow out of their tiresome conversation, Kyoya's words fell short as a small hand gently slipped into his own.

He gave a start at her sudden presence, only to be overcome by elation. Not too far out of sight, he could hear the remainder of their friends trailing not too far behind.

"Pardon my interruption, Kurosawa-sama, but Kyoya knows what he wants. I'm sure everything will turn out great for him; and interesting in its own way."

Haruhi was the first to bow to the older man, insinuating that the conversation was now over. Gripping Haruhi's hand tight in his own, Kyoya suppressed his own smile while giving a bow, before pivoting toward the sound of laughter.

* * *

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Finally! I hope everyone is having a lovely summer, and that this chapter finds you well. :) Just in case you haven't read the manga, Kuze is in reference to a lifelong classmate of Kyoya's-Takeshi Kuze. He's the captain of Ouran's American football team, and while you get the idea that he's generally a decent guy, when it comes to Kyoya he's a bit of a jerk. It's basically Kuze's mission in life to one-up Kyoya in some way or another. Unfortunately, he manages to fail every time. ;)

The song for this chapter is Walking in the Street, by Tribes. :D


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